


Skin on Skin

by Syrum



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuddling, Dark Magic, Dry Humping, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Kidnapping, Kissing, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Oral Sex, Recovery, Slavery, also poor Loki, hand holding, i'm terrible at tags, none of this is his fault
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured and tortured by Amora, Loki is forced to drink a fairly nasty potion that leaves him in near-constant agony, with only one way to relieve the pain; human touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rescue

Loki had decided that, with each passing moment that he was forced to endure her presence, he despised Amora all the more. Her lips curled wickedly as she stared down upon him, knelt and chained at her feet, stripped bare of all but his leather pants, even his boots removed - forcefully - from his person. His own expression curled into one of disgust, and he received a kick in the mouth from one of her high-heeled boots for the trouble. Spitting blood and bile, he kept his gaze lowered for the moment, desperately searching for a way out, a way to take her down.

He had been her prisoner for nigh on three weeks, and she had yet to issue any demands bar one; he was to drink the small bottle of pale pink fluid that was placed before him. Each day he would be viciously beaten, before being dragged before the enchantress and the bottle presented to him, no explanation as to what was held within. And each day, without fail, he would refuse.

The beatings following his refusal were always worse, magic joining the whips and boots of his attackers, her slaves earning favour the more they could cause him to cry out in agony.

“I have discovered something rather delicious, would you like to hear it?” Amora sneered down at him, the small, pink bottle dangling delicately from her slender fingers.

“I would rather bathe in the excrement of your pet dogs.” Loki snapped back, his defiance never fading despite the continued torture. He earned a knife to his ribs for that one, crying out in agony as the blade cut into him, not deep enough that he would bleed out.

“It’s about your magic.” Amora continued as though he had said nothing at all, pacing slowly before him. “The magic that I stole from you? Well, borrowed I suppose. I have found a most interesting way of letting you have it back.” She placed a glass before him, green liquid swirling in the bottom and he knew without even a second glance what she intended. Loki made to dart forward, to take the liquid that was once his magic from her before she could tamper with it further, the chains about his wrist and neck anchoring him to the floor so he could not quite reach her or his goal.

“Bitch!” He snarled, all eloquence leaving him as she cackled, pouring the pink liquid into the green, the colours swirling together to form a noxious grey colour, bubbling away at the bottom of the glass.

“Not your best insult, but I will take it. If you drink this, your magic will return and you are free to go. What is it to be?” She did not wait for his answer, knowing what it would be, what it _had_ to be if Loki could ever be truly whole again, waving one elegant hand, the chains holding him bound vanishing leaving only the metal collar and cuffs pressed against his abused skin.

The taste of the liquid was foul, his own magic a familiar sweetness mixed with the bitter, acrid taste of whatever had been in the pink vial. He could hear Amora chuckling before him, could feel her stare even as he felt his magic return to him, flowing through his veins like the lifeblood that also resided there. Once the glass was empty, Loki made to stand. Without warning, he found the wind knocked out of him, something strange and foreign writhing through his body. He fell to the floor, writhing in agony as the potion took effect.

A crash behind him alerted Loki to the presence of another, as well as Amora herself who vanished as the wall caved in, narrowly avoiding a large section of stone as it flew, at speed, towards her head. Her pets remained behind, charging at the intruders, their furious cries cut short as they were easily knocked back.

“He’s here, someone fetch Thor.” A familiar voice, though Loki could not quite place it, mind swimming as it was. The pain, at least, had subsided for the moment, leaving behind a dull ache that he could not find entirely unpleasant. “Shit, he’s in a bad way.”

“Rogers, did you just _swear_?” Another voice, muffled, as though hidden behind a wall and yet amplified. He knew this one too.

“Not now, Tony. This isn’t the time.” Strong arms wrapped around his torso and under his legs, lifting his prone form from the cold, hard floor. Loki could not help the gurgling cry that loosed from his lips as his abused body was jostled into place against a firm, warm chest. “Sorry, I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.” The words barely registered any more, a sweet smell with just a little hint of spice hitting his nostrils and Loki turned his head into the scent, into his saviour.

“Brother, are you injured?” Ah, Thor, that voice he knew well and certainly did not relish hearing considering his present state. The last thought that flickered through Loki’s mind before oblivion claimed him was how much he wished Thor had not found him in such a state, and how wonderfully warm and safe he felt within the arms that held him.

“It looks pretty bad, Thor. We need to get him to a doctor as soon as possible.” Steve felt Loki grow limp within his arms and, for one horrifying moment, truly believed that he had passed on. But no, the shallow rise and fall of his chest continued, curled against the Captain, head nestled into the blonde’s chest.

“I should return him to Asgard, they will be able to heal him more swiftly there, though I know not if he would survive the trip if he has been hurt to that extent.” Thor glanced around at the carnage, looking for any sign of Amora that he might pay her back tenfold for the pain that she had inflicted upon his beloved brother.

“Then we take him back to base, get one of our doctors to take a look.” One of the creatures that had attacked him on the way in moved to his right, grabbing for his boot, earning a swift kick from the Captain that knocked it out cold, Loki whimpering slightly in his grip.

“Pass him to me, I shall carry him.” Reaching for his brother, Thor seemed genuinely surprised when Steve pulled away, loathe to inflict any unnecessary pain upon his charge.

“No, if Amora makes another appearance, you’re the only one who stands a chance of stopping her. If Loki is her target, you need both arms to be able to defend him.”

“Yes, you are right friend Steve.” It made sense, of course, but Steve’s behaviour still puzzled him somewhat. He had more important things to worry about though at that point in time, his little brother’s wellbeing rather near the top of that list.

“Sweet as this little exchange is over who gets to cuddle the enemy, can we hurry up and get out of here?” Tony sniped over the communicators from somewhere outside the facility.

“Loki is not the enemy, he is my brother, do not insult him further man of iron.”

“Alright fine, we can all have Loki-cuddles when we get home, now can we please leave? I’ve got incoming from the south and it looks like a dragon.” Steve could practically hear the roll of Tony’s eyes as he spoke.

“Woah, I am _not_ fighting a dragon!” Clint’s voice crackled over the communicators as they made their way as quickly, and in Steve’s case as carefully, as they could, boarding the S.H.I.E.L.D jet and barely making it to their seats before it took to the skies, racing towards home.

It took mere moments for a team of doctors to descend upon them once they reached the base, Fury only moments behind, his expression severe. Steve, still carrying a semi-conscious Loki, was ushered into one of the medical wings, where he was instructed to lay the Asgardian upon a clean, white cot. As soon as Steve released the taller man, Loki let out a low, keening wail, clearly in pain as he thrashed upon the bed.

“What is happening? Brother, please calm yourself, you will do yourself an injury.” Thor’s strong hands pressed the narrow shoulders of his younger brother into the mattress, doing little to calm the thrashing of the wounded prince. “Friend Steve, please assist, he is going to harm himself!”

As soon as Steve’s hands were upon him, Loki stilled, the last few threads of consciousness fading as he slipped into a magic-induced sleep. “I don’t understand, what just happened?” Steve murmured as Thor pulled back first, leaving room for the doctors to work, and then he himself followed suit. Upon releasing Loki’s legs, though, the unconscious god began to whimper, his face contorting in pain.

“Some foul magics.” Thor spat, curling his lip in disgust. “Take his hand, I cannot bear to see him in such agony.” Steve did as he was instructed, fingers curling around Loki’s own broken ones, the dark-haired trickster god immediately relaxing once more, features smoothing out and little cries growing silent.

“What does this mean?” Steve asked quietly, glancing over at Thor who steadfastly refused to remove his gaze from his wounded brother.

“I do not yet know, however it seems that your touch and your touch alone offers much comfort to him.” Thor seemed understandably troubled, rubbing at the stubble that adorned his chin. “Remain at his side until I return, I should not be long.”

“Where are you going?” Calling after the retreating blonde, Steve shifted over so that one of the doctors could cut away at the fabric of Loki’s pants, dried blood having stuck the leather to his legs, a hiss of discomfort sounding from the prone man.

“I will find Amora, and when I do I shall extract the answers that we need from her.” Thor was gone, then, leaving Steve alone with an unconscious trickster god and a team of doctors.


	2. Waiting

“Do you not see? It would have been so perfect.” Amora sighed to herself, not for the first time lamenting her failure. “All you needed to do was to remain absent for a few hours longer, a day at most, and he would have been free to go with scarcely a mark upon his person.”

“I ask again, witch; what foul magics have you used upon my brother?” Thor bristled behind the wall of light she had conjured, wishing for nothing more than to use Mjolnir to knock the infuriating smile from her face.

“T’is nothing of consequence. A potion to force his hand, so he relies on touch, the touch of whomever should show him first kindness after imbuing it.”

“For what purpose? What manner of plan did you have in mind?” He all but growled, though this seemed to simply amuse her.

“That, my darling Thor, I will not tell you.” She laughed softly to herself, standing mere inches from the thunder god. “Though I will tell you this; the only way to reverse the spell, is through the one to whom he is now linked.” She was gone, then, and Thor cursed the day he had ever crossed paths with the vile enchantress.

* * *

“This is ridiculous, how long are you going to sit there and hold his hand for?” Tony was prodding at one of the machines the medics had hooked up to Loki’s arm, reading his vitals, while Steve sat in an over-stuffed chair, right hand firmly grasping the trickster god’s own.

“Until he wakes up and tells me to stop.” Steve replied calmly, turning the page in the book that he was attempting to, unsuccessfully, read in peace.

“And what about when you need to use the bathroom?” It was a very real problem, and one that did not truly have an answer. “You can’t tell me you’ve not been for a piss in three days?”

“And that is exactly why he has an en suite room, so the lack of contact is minimal.” Placing his worn leather bookmark between the pages and closing his book, Steve stood from his seat, Tony’s reminder of the present state of his bladder enough that he required a break. “Watch him for me, I won’t be long.” Placing the splinted fingers gently upon the comforter, Steve paused for a moment, regret etched into his features, before releasing Loki’s hand and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom.

Almost immediately the unconscious Asgardian began to whimper, those whimpers becoming plaintive cries and he started to thrash upon the bed, face contorted in agony and eyes flickering open and closed, the pain enough to drag him from the drug-induced sleep he had been subjected to. “Hey now, he’s coming back, just try to chill out until then.” Tony found himself attempting, unsuccessfully, to restrain the tortured god, Loki on the verge of ripping out the multiple tubes that had been attached to him to aid his recovery. The machines behind them were screaming, his blood pressure and heart rate both at dangerous levels, and yet no one came to assist, no one appeared to find out what was happening to the bruised and broken man who had been assigned to their care.

No one, that was, except for Steve. Grabbing for Loki’s hands, he leaned in as Tony backed off, the billionaire watching curiously as the Captain murmured something nonsensical to the distressed god, who finally grew still, features relaxing as he drifted back off to sleep, green eyes staring up in what could have been gratitude for only a moment before sliding shut.

“Well, you certainly have a way with psychopathic god-like beings.” Tony grumbled from across the room, arms folded over his chest as Steve returned to his chair to wait out the next few hours. “Where the hell are the orderlies, anyway? When I was stuck in here, I couldn’t fart without someone coming running to check I hadn’t expired in a cloud of methane.” Steve snorted but made no comment on the course analogy.

“The difference is you’re Iron Man, they care about you. You’re a hero, a public figure, and at least half the people in this facility, if not more, owe their lives to you. Him?” He turned to look at Loki, subconsciously squeezing the god’s hand, though he could not say as to why. “He tried to wipe them out, almost succeeded. Most people here would have prefered it if he had died on the operating table.”

“But not you?” Tony asked, feeling a pang of something, he wasn’t sure what, in his chest.

“No, not me.” Steve agreed, frowning slightly. They didn’t know, of course, the people who worked under Fury, those with lesser clearance than himself. They didn’t know about the times Loki had actually _helped_ them, when he had risked his life for others, for _humans_ who had shown little to no gratitude for the assistance. They didn’t need to know, Fury said. Let it be thought that Loki was still an evil, malicious entity, one who would wipe out the Earth at a moment’s notice should he feel like it.

The people needed someone to hate, he said. Someone to loathe, to _blame_ , and the fact that the attack on Earth hadn’t been Loki’s doing directly was irrelevant. Loki was not inherently evil, he said, but he made a pretty fine scapegoat. 

“Looks like Thor is back.” A crash of thunder, too close by to be natural, the clear skies and bright sunshine outside the room too much of a give away. “Here’s hoping he’s got something that’ll give you your hand back.”

Much to Steve’s dismay, he didn’t. “Friend Steven, I am sorry to say I bring bad news.” Thor had strode into the room, making the small space feel entirely too confining, his presence suffocating.

“And we were doing so well, switching you over to using ‘Steve’ and everything.” Tony sighed, earning a glare from the Captain who rose to meet his friend. That he was still firmly grasping Loki’s hand did not go unnoticed, nor unappreciated.

“What did you manage to find?” Steve asked firmly, his attention dragged away for a moment as the fingers within his own twitched and squeezed, before growing still once more.

“I located the enchantress, she steadfastly refused to give me a straight answer.” The thunder god fumed, scowling at the memory. “I know not what her plan was for Loki, nor what potion he was given, but I did manage to find that the reason he now requires your touch is simply because you showed him a kindness after he was forced to drink it.”

“Were you able to find out anything else? A way to fix it, perhaps?”

“She has said that,” Thor paused, studying Steve’s face for a moment. “That as you are the one now linked to my brother, then you are the only one who can cure him”

“Wait, cure how? This isn’t going to be some weird-ass ancient magic that’ll put the world at risk again, right? Because we all know how much that sucked last time.” Tony piped up, going mostly ignored by Steve, who had turned his attention back on the prone form upon the bed.

“That, I do not know, she was gone before I could divulge that information from her.” Thor’s lips turned downwards, the frown pulling his features into an expression of distress, clearly worried for his brother’s well-being.

“We will find a way to fix this.” Steve assured him, patting the large thunder god’s arm in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “Once he’s awake, Loki might know more.” Or, rather, he hoped Loki knew how to fix it.


	3. Awakening

It was another two weeks before Loki was deemed well enough to be allowed to awaken, the frequent thrashing that accompanied the short periods of Steve’s absence from his side had exacerbated his injuries and at least two fingers in his left hand had to be re-set. Even with his god-like healing capabilities, his body was struggling to repair the damage, and Steve had not once stopped berating himself for it.

The past two weeks had been something like a personal living hell for the super soldier; he could not go on missions, had slept each and every night in the increasingly uncomfortable chair and had even taken to bathing at Loki’s bedside with a bowl of warm water and a clean washcloth, rather than risking leaving him for the seven minutes and thirty two seconds it would have taken him to shower and return. He had sat, and watched, and read, hoping against hope that Thor would return once more with a little more information than simply ‘you have to fix it’. Because that was wonderful and all, and he really hoped he _could_ fix it, but it didn’t give him much direction and he had no idea where to start.

Fury had tried to insist on an armed guard for when Loki finally awoke. Steve convinced him that he was being overly dramatic, that Loki had not in any way harmed any of them in over three years, and that he was perfectly capable of subduing a half-broken Asgardian if needs be. He had done so with Thor before, after all, and the thunder god was decidedly stronger than Loki.

He had neglected to mention the jagged scar that ran from hip bone to inner thigh from that particular confrontation.

The sedatives that had been pumped near enough continually into the trickster god were finally switched off, much to the delight of the head of the medical staff who had used up over half their yearly budget on keeping the man under, and he was left to come around naturally. Steve could see the way his eyelids flickered, long lashes brushing against high cheekbones, and felt how Loki’s fingers twitched within his own as he struggled to drag himself back to wakefulness. Steve, by contrast, remained still, moving only to turn the page of the book in his lap, attention divided between the work of fiction and the man on the bed.

“Captain, pray tell why are you holding my hand?” Loki’s voice was thick, heavy with sleep and sedatives and the cloying taste of weeks without liquid passing his lips. He did not pull away though, or perhaps had not worked out how to, his eyes landing on Steve before roaming around the room once more, the cycle repeating itself.

“That’s a bit of a long story, maybe I should get Thor to tell it?” Book carefully placed at the feet of his chair, Steve switched his full attention to his charge, watching carefully for any signs of distress.

“Certainly not.” Loki wrinkled his nose in disgust, glaring at the Captain. “If the tale is long by your standards, we would as like be here a full day were Thor to tell it.”

“He certainly does like his embellishments.” Steve chuckled, moving to help Loki sit, the Asgardian looking as though he might protest for a moment, until a glass of water was pressed into his hand. “Drink slowly, you’ll feel better for it, but I don’t want it making you sick.”

“I am not an invalid.” He snapped by way of response, fingers tightening around the cool glass, the pressure tugging on one of the slashes in his arm and he winced. Steve simply shook his head and sighed, throwing Loki a look that he normally reserved for Tony, the one that said he thought he was being an idiot and should just do as he was told.

“What was the last thing you remember?” The blonde asked softly, watching as Loki lifted the glass to his lips with a trembling hand, most of his strength still absent, spilling it only slightly upon the comforter that Steve had insisted be brought in for him.

“I remember Thor asking that I meet with him.” Loki frowned, giving no protest as Steve took the glass from him, placing it upon the night stand. “I thought it strange, off somehow, but I went regardless.”

“Thor asked you to?” Steve asked, trying to recall if the thunder god had mentioned anything about meeting with Loki, or whether he had even left the tower that day. He couldn’t recall, and that frustrated him.

“Yes, do you really think it so peculiar? He is my brother after all.” Steve thought for a moment and shook his head ‘no’, he supposed it was not so strange, but his lack of memory of that morning was certainly disconcerting. “The circumstances seemed strange, but I saw no danger in it. I was, apparently, wrong.”

“What happened?”

“I do not know. The next thing I recall is awaking within a cell, bound and gagged, a spiked boot kicking me into wakefulness.” That explained the marks on his back and stomach, then. “It appears that Amora had some sort of designs after me, though I know not why. I endured daily beatings, refusing to bow to her wishes.”

“Couldn’t you escape? Your magic-”

“Do you think me so foolish? Do you think I would not have, if I could?” Loki snapped, glaring at the Captain. “No, she is much too cunning to allow that. My magic was stripped from me, bound, and offered as a trade; if I were to drink the potion she had concocted, then she would return my magic to me and allow me to leave of my own volition. Alas, with the Enchantress Amora, things are rarely so simple.”

“You took it, in the end?”

“I had little choice.” He sighed, leaning back against the pillows Steve had propped up behind him, looking bone tired. “She had found a way to combine both my magic and the potion, so that in order to regain one I would have to imbue the other.”

“Do you know what the potion was for?” Steve asked hopefully, leaning in slightly as he absorbed every careful word that spilled from Loki’s mouth, in case any one thing might prove the key to unlocking the solution to their dilemma.

“So many questions, my dear Captain.” Loki chuckled, wincing as it jostled his broken ribs. “No, sadly I do not. I recall the taste of it, and the burning agony as it took me over, and then-” He stopped, frowning. And then something had happened, someone had held him, chased the newly inflicted pain away, leaving only the ache of his wounds. He pushed the image from his mind, to dwell on further at another time, once he had space to think. “You still have not told me why you will not release my hand.” He finally continued, voice softer than he would have liked. “I should like some time alone, so if you please-”

“No.” He hadn’t meant to blurt the word out, hadn’t truly meant to speak at all, though Loki seemed more amused by the outburst and the ensuing flush that overtook the Captain’s cheeks. “I can’t let go, it’ll hurt you if I do.”

“You cannot hold onto it for the rest of your days, and I am sure whatever perceived hurts you believe me to be suffering will be neither exacerbated nor healed by the touch of your hand.” Steve frowned and, reluctantly, allowed the trickster god to tug his hand away. Almost immediately, Loki’s eyes widened and he doubled over, a silent scream escaping his lips as the pain wracked his slender form. Steve lunged forward, wrapping his arms around the tense, trembling form upon the bed, hands hidden from him. One hand found its way to the bare skin at the base of Loki’s neck, while the other rubbed soothing circles upon his back, waiting until the pained gasps dwindled and the Asgardian grew still.

“I’m sorry.” Steve had found himself in what could have been considered an uncomfortable position, perched upon the edge of the hospital bed, holding Loki close as the Asgardian leaned bonelessly into him, breathing rather more heavily than was normal. He could not pull away, in case Loki were to pitch forward without the solid support of his chest, and to remain where he was for much longer would turn his act of kindness from that of ‘comforting a friend’ to ‘extremely awkward’.

“What is it that she has done? How has she bound me to you?” Loki groaned, his voice muffled slightly by the soft cotton of Steve’s tee.

“From what Thor said, I think our...link?” He paused for half a second, waiting to see if he would be corrected. When he was not, he continued slowly. “I think it was accidental. I just happened to reach you first, before she could do...whatever it was she was planning to do to you.”

“Are you saying,” Loki’s mind was spinning, his thoughts moving too fast, not stitching together fast enough, the sedatives in his system slowing his thought processes down to a frustrating level. “That because you were the first to touch me, I’m now bound to remain by your side?”

“A ‘first kindness’, Thor said. My guess is that Amora had intended on being in my place, but we got there before she could.” A bark of laughter sounded from below his chin and Loki finally pulled back, not enough that Steve could yet move, his hand still upon the trickster god’s neck, but enough that Steve was able to see the pain and anger in those deep green eyes.

“I should be thankful, I suppose. There are worse fates than this - had she managed to bind me to herself, I fear I should never have been able to leave her side. As it stands, I do not believe I could have fared much better where your little group is concerned. At least it was not my brother, I do not think I could have survived that knowledge!” He chuckled, but the smile didn't quite reach the corners of his eyes. “So, Captain, what do you intend to do with me now? You are an Avenger, are you not? You cannot be seen holding my hand in the heat of battle.”

“I was hoping you might be able to shed a little more light on what this is, and what we can do about it.” Steve admitted sheepishly, glancing down as Loki’s hand brushed against his leg and taking the offered digits within his own, larger fingers, finally able to sit back up fully, hand moving away from the back of Loki’s slender neck. “Thor mentioned that there should be a cure, and that whatever it is I’m the key.”

“Ah, well that is some good news at least.” It was clear that the god of mischief was in pain, though he hid it well, only the slightest wince visible as he sat back against the pillows. “I suppose I shall have to suffer your company until such a time as we are able to reverse this.”

“Yeah, except I don’t know what I’m meant to do.” Steve frowned, though the deep furrows between his brows eased out slightly when the hand within his own gave a gentle squeeze of his fingers. Loki was staring out of the window, watching soft clouds drift lazily by, steadfastly and purposefully avoiding looking at the blonde; he wouldn’t admit that he didn’t know either.

“Captain?” Loki finally spoke, breaking the pleasant silence, disbelieving himself for what he was about to say. “I believe I need to see my brother.”


	4. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww yus, one-sided crushing on the not-quite enemy!
> 
> (This pairing is taking over my life)

They had been unable to track down Thor for the first two days after Loki’s awakening. He had, it seemed, returned to Asgard, and none seemed to know when he might be back or why he left to begin with. For those two days, Loki remained in the hospital wing, unable to leave his bed. He was healing well, but still slower than normal by his usual standards. His mood throughout remained pleasant enough, and he was unexpectedly courteous towards the nursing staff, though Steve could feel the frustration bubbling away beneath the surface ready to spill over at any given moment.

When the evening of the third day came about, Loki’s dinner sat upon his lap and the trickster god poking at what might have once been a carrot with his fork, Thor finally returned. The first warning was the crack of thunder outside, signalling his arrival back on the planet. The second warning was the shouting from down the corridor, as multiple voices - Thor’s included, and decidedly louder than the rest - appeared to be arguing as they approached the room.

“-too dangerous, we don’t know what he might do with it!” Clint, from the sounds of it, irritation clear in his tone.

“He is not a threat, you will cease treating him as such.”

“I’m with Thor on this one.” Tony, it seems, was in agreement with whatever plan Thor had and was presently carrying out. Loki turned his attention to Steve, one elegant eyebrow raised in query. Steve simply shrugged and shook his head, and both turned their attention back to the door. “We need Cap back, right? Not like anyone else here knows what they’re doing where magic’s concerned.”

“I could have another magic-user here within the week, if we need one, though it would be seen as a waste of resources.” Natasha added, ever the voice of reason yet remaining strangely impartial in the argument itself.

“Are you guys listening to yourselves? Tony, surely you can’t be serious, this is _Loki_ we’re talking about, he very nearly destroyed the _planet_.” Clint was starting to sound slightly hysterical through the closed door, which judging by the way his voice reverberated he was leaning up against, blocking the way.

“I do not blame him for distrusting me, he has every reason to.” Loki murmured, careful to go unheard by any save Steve, who had been looking progressively more guilty at the bickering that had disturbed the Asgardian’s rest. His words did little to dispel the guilt, though they were at least enough for the Captain to relax a small amount in his chair.

“Take over, not destroy.” Thor corrected, and from the shuffling sounds and light thud, it appeared that the god of thunder had grown weary of waiting and had moved the archer out of the way himself.

“And here I thought we were finally getting past all that.” Tony gave an exaggerated sigh as he followed Thor into the room, grinning widely at it’s occupants, both of whom sighed in unison. “You guys have been spending way too much time together, we should probably try to fix that.”

“I am sorry to have disturbed your rest, brother.” Thor looked entirely too pleased with himself to be any kinds of ‘sorry’, regardless of what he said.

“I am used to it.” Loki sighed, indicating that the thunder god should move closer. “What have you found? Hopefully it will be of some worth.”

“Indeed! I have scoured the royal library of Asgard for knowledge, and sought out whatever magical trinkets might aid in our quest for a cure.” Hoisting the bag he had been carrying from over his shoulder, Thor pulled out several large and heavy tomes, a small metal horse, blank runes and a sphere the size of a large orange that glimmered and shifted like water in a sparkling blue. The sphere immediately caught Loki’s attention, and he pulled the thing closer to himself, picking it up and moving it around within his free hand. At a gesture from the trickster god, Steve moved to rest his hand against the back of Loki’s neck before releasing his damaged hand.

“You know, if you two are going to start doing that sort of thing at the company picnic, people are gonna talk.” Tony seemed entirely too amused at the whole situation, watching with glee as Steve flushed up to his ears, snickering at the look of embarrassment that crossed the Captain’s face. Loki, by contrast, barely seemed to hear, moving the orb around between his hands, studying the way the liquid surface moved, which was seemingly unaffected by whatever he did to the thing.

“Will it be of use?” Thor asked hopefully, looking every bit like the pleased child awaiting praise for a job well done.

“I do not yet know even what it is, much less if it will be of use, but it is of interest nonetheless.” Loki hummed to himself and passed the orb to Steve, paying little further attention to it as he reached for the runes, the thing immediately growing dark and cold in the Captain’s large hand. Steve felt ice prickling sharply like knives upon his skin and, with a pained yelp, dropped the orb. It bounced once, twice, then grew completely still long before it should have.

“Let me see.” Tugging on Steve’s arm, trinkets and books forgotten in place of the injured blonde, Loki inspected the damage; a good few layers of skin seemed to have been removed, and the entirety of the man’s arm was ice cold with a tinge of blue. Frowning, the Asgardian wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, pressing down firmly with his thumb, feeling as heat began to flow back into the damaged limb.

“Thank you.” Steve sighed, his arm feeling strange as he felt magic tingle through his flesh and into his bones.

“Do not thank me.” Loki sighed, trailing his fingertips over the newly healed skin, inspecting his handiwork. “I am the one who handed you the thing.”

“You weren’t to know what it would do, it isn’t your fault. It seemed harmless enough when you and Thor held it, just looks like it’s me it took exception to.” Despite Steve’s protests, Loki did not look convinced, returning to the runes with rather less enthusiasm than he had held previously, his unhappy countenance not missed by any in the room.

“That makes it no less my fault.” A murmur, scarcely heard, but enough to draw a frown to Steve’s face, which he found was mirrored on Thor’s own. “It is dangerous, could it be removed, please?” He finally asked, quietly, picking up one of the heavy books and flicking through it, never looking up from the bed.

“Indeed, and I am sorry friend Steve, I would not have brought it here had I known it would cause you harm.” With less flourish than they were used to, Thor scooped the sphere up from the floor, depositing it back into the bag he had taken it from scant minutes before.

“More importantly.” Tony finally piped up, trying and failing to read the title of the next book on the pile beside Loki’s leg. “Since when are you able to heal other people? And, if you’re able to do that, how come you’re still in here with broken fingers and cracked ribs?”

“I have always had the ability. It requires a great deal more magical energy than would be required to heal my own hurts, of which I am sadly lacking at present.” Loki finally looked up, and Tony could not help but suck in a short breath of surprise at the sight; where he had appeared rested and near enough jovial - for Loki at least - when they had first arrived, now he was pale, sunken and clearly exhausted. “So in answer to your final question, I did not feel it necessary to waste what little power I have at present on myself when I would not have been able to complete the task.”

An incredulous snort sounded from the doorway, and all eyes save Loki’s turned to Clint, who was all but glaring at the slumped form on the bed. “You can’t heal yourself, but you can heal Cap? Sorry, not buying it, you’re the most selfish, arrogant bastard I’ve ever met, why the hell would you go and do something like that, unless you’re getting something out of it.”

“That is enough.” Thor turned on the archer, advancing menacingly upon the much smaller man, barely noticing as Steve shifted behind him and Natasha moved to put herself between the pair.

“Loki?” Steve’s voice only just registered over the noise Thor was making, drawing only Tony’s attention as the Captain gently tilted his charge’s chin up to look into hazy green eyes, before Loki slumped sideways against him.

“Alright, that’s enough, everyone out.” To his surprise, and ultimate relief, Tony took charge of the situation, ushering the trio from the room before they could cause any further harm, ignoring Thor’s protests. When he returned, he found Steve cradling the unconscious god against his chest, running gentle fingers through sweat-soaked locks. “How’s he doing?”

“He’s out cold, but at least he doesn’t seem to be in pain.” Came the quiet and almost eerily calm response. Tony seated himself at the foot of the bed, watching as his friend slowly rocked Loki back and forth, the motion seemingly more to calm himself than the man in his arms. It seemed to be doing both, though, as Loki finally shifted to curl closer into the touch of the other.

“You’ve got it bad.” Tony finally sighed as Loki was lowered so very gently down onto the bed, lest he awaken and find himself in an unwanted embrace.

“It’s that obvious?” Steve had taken his place in his chair, fingers curled around Loki’s own, and he looked somewhat sheepish and entirely miserable as he stared down at the Asgardian.

“Only about as obvious as a smack in the mouth.” If anything, Steve looked even more unhappy at that. “You gonna be okay, Cap?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. He’s the one stuck in the hospital, remember?” He wasn’t fine, he was far from fine, but there was little Steve could do about it, not being permanently attached to the man. He would get over it; he had to. He had no choice.


	5. Revelation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This went in...not the direction I had planned.
> 
> It's also pretty much two chapters rolled into one, but oh well.
> 
> WARNINGS: it gets kinda dark half way through, mentions of mental conditioning. Not too much detail, because I don't want it to turn into a trigger, but it's there.

Loki clenched his teeth, pressing his tongue against the back of them, only vaguely aware of the danger of biting into or perhaps through the muscle as another spasm wracked his slender form. He had curled in on himself, knees pressed tightly into his chest as sharp nails dug into his bare legs, leaving semi-circular welts in the pale skin of his inner thighs. He wanted to cry out, to call Steve back to his side, to stop the burning, white-hot agony that surged through every pain receptor in his body. He could not recall how long he had been like that, every second feeling as hours to his pain-hazed mind, blood pounding within his ears.

“...sorry, I’m sorry.” Strong arms, gentle, tugging at his arms, at the too-large shirt that covered them, trying to find some small patch of bare skin to offer the relief Loki craved. The god of mischief was so tightly curled into himself, though, that the Captain struggled to find purchase, the barrier of cloth dampening the effect of his touch. Finally, he gave up on trying to locate a hand or arm, gripping the bare skin just below Loki’s knee with one hand, thumb running in soothing circles where it rested on the inside of his calf.

Finally, Loki’s vision began to clear, his gasping breaths slowing and returning to normal, body trembling as he appeared to unravel upon the bed. It seemed to get worse each time Steve left, though he could not force the blonde to remain at his side at all times, the man had needs and responsibilities as well. This had, in fact, been the first time since the incident over a month prior that Steve had been able to leave Loki’s side to properly shower. He had, in the end, only gone due to Loki’s insistence that he smelled akin to a swamp, and if he did not bathe soon they were likely to declare his living quarters unfit for purpose.

Steve had flushed and done as he was told, finishing in record time and racing back to Loki’s bedside, wet feet almost slipping on the wet linoleum as he darted out of the bathroom dressed in nothing but his, now slightly damp, jeans. It was easier, now that they were no longer confined to the hospital wing, Steve’s own rooms better suited to the recovering Asgardian, and there was no longer any danger of Loki pulling tubes free due to one of his violent spasms.

“You-” A shuddering gasp, and Loki curled closer, hands slipping free and pressing against the bare skin of Steve’s stomach and hip. “You are still wet.” He pressed his face against the solid muscle of the Captain’s stomach, the cool dampness feeling wonderful against his feverish skin.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t want to take too long.” He couldn’t bear the thought of leaving his charge for longer than absolutely necessary, knowing that doing so was akin to torturing Loki himself, and while the quiet gasps and muffled cries of agony had been quickly muffled by the sound of the falling water, his memory did a good enough job of filling in the blanks. “Do you want me to dry off?”

“No, not for the moment.” Loki mouthed against his belly button, his own shirt absorbing much of the water that ran freely from the Captain’s chest. Blonde hair, dark and wet, dripped down onto Loki’s back, soaking through the fabric and leaving small patches of cold. He revelled in it, clung to it, and as his senses began to return it was with some reluctance that he finally pulled away.

“Do you need anything?” Steve asked quietly, pushing sweat-soaked hair away from Loki’s face as the Asgardian pushed himself up, keeping one hand on Steve’s hip to continue the constant contact.

“I may need a new shirt, if you can spare one.” The lopsided smile that Steve received from the man was enough to make his stomach flip, the expression one he had never seen aimed at any save himself. He wasn’t about to question that, to potentially break the unspoken truce or reveal his thoughts and feelings to the younger Odinson, though with every small change in Loki’s behaviour towards him he found himself wondering a little more over whether they were entirely one-sided or not, particularly with the way Loki was presently looking at him.

“I’ll see what I can do.” With a chuckle, Steve began the task of unbuttoning the borrowed shirt that had served as sleepwear for the god of mischief, Loki’s broken fingers making such deft work difficult. They had been healing well, up until the point where he had rolled atop them at a decidedly bad angle during one of his fits and broken them once more, forcing the doctors to re-set them yet again. The splints were due to be removed within the week, however their presence still made it near impossible to use that hand for much.

“This would also be fine, for the moment.” Loki sighed as he shrugged off the garment, tossing it from the bed and wrapping his arms around Steve’s wide torso, wearing nothing but a thin pair of Steve’s boxers, his head resting upon the Captain’s shoulder, sighing as the last of the pained spikes fled from his senses.

“Does this help?” Despite himself, and the guilt he felt for it, Steve could not help but enjoy being pressed so close to the Asgardian, holding him in a loose embrace as his right hand trailed circles over Loki’s bare back.

“Yes, very much so.” Came the response, all but purred, Loki boneless within his grip. “You know, Captain, you are a very attractive man.” Hands, slender and deft, pressed against hard contours, playing their way down Steve’s back.

“Is this the spell talking?” Steve let himself lean back into the touch, the pressure on tired muscles feeling exquisite, a pleased hum escaping his throat.

“The words, no, I have thought this since I first laid eyes upon you. The intent? That I do not know, but I suspect not, else it would have made itself known long before now.” For a moment, Steve was unsure as to what precisely Loki meant by ‘intent’. Any uncertainties were quickly chased away, though, by the run of fingers and the scrape of a nail just below his waistband.

“I don’t want to take advantage, and besides you’re still recovering.” 

“So that means you do want me.” It wasn’t a question, but it didn’t need to be. Steve nodded, licking his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“But then, you already knew that, didn’t you?” Truthfully, Loki had not known, had been unsure whether what he felt when he pressed his hands to the Captain was of his own choosing, or the impulses of another, and he had no idea whether Steve would even entertain such a thing, much less reciprocate. Loki may have been many things, but he would not take what was not freely given.

“Your morality stills your hand.” Loki was in his lap, then, straddling damp jeans in an attempt to get closer still, his intentions for the moment at least almost entirely innocent. To his credit, Steve was able to swallow down the undignified squeak at the unexpected contact, shifting around so that he wasn’t likely to slip from the edge of the bed. “Worry not, I have no intention of asking for anything that might infringe upon the values you pride yourself on.”

“I just need to know that this is you talking and not the magic. If, when all this is over, you still want to figure out whatever... _this_ is, then we’ll talk.”

“Ever the gentleman.” Loki hummed, treating the Captain to a chaste kiss upon his cheek, delighting in the way Steve flushed to the tips of his ears. “You truly believe we will be able to locate the counter-spell?”

“I promised you, didn’t I?” The gentle smile Steve offered him was almost enough to make Loki believe the Captain could make it happen. Almost. “I always keep my promises.”

“So I’ve been led to believe.” With a solid shove, Steve found himself staring up at the ceiling, bouncing slightly as he landed against the tangled covers, legs still hanging off the edge of the bed. “Now if you don’t mind, all of this excitement has left me quite tired. My intention is to nap, and so long as you have no objections I should very much like to use that shoulder of yours as a pillow.” Loki didn’t bother to wait for a response, curling up against the Captain’s side and quirking an eyebrow at the low laugh that bubbled up from Steve’s chest. Strong arms wrapped around him once more, holding him closer than strictly necessary, a fact that Loki chose not to mention.

“I would never have guessed that you’d be such a tactile person.” Nor would anyone else, Steve thought, wondering just what Tony would say if he saw Loki cuddled up against him like an oversized cat.

“There are many things you do not know about me. For one, I enjoy physical contact, just only with those whom I trust implicitly.” Steve could not help the wide, beaming smile that near enough split his face in two at Loki’s words, and he pulled the Asgardian just that little bit closer. “I have also found that, while the touch of your hand is enough to keep the pain at bay, the addition of further contact is…” He paused for a moment, then. Not pleasurable, it wasn’t sexual in any way, but it was akin to the comfort he had sought from his mother as a child, that warm embrace, the calm that seemed to spread from within. “Soothing.”

“Is that the spell, do you think?” Steve frowned, placing a small kiss upon Loki’s forehead, surprised when the Asgardian shivered slightly at the contact.

“Entirely likely.” Loki replied with a yawn, half hoping that further kisses would follow. He was undeniably disappointed when they didn’t, yet still too proud to vocalise it, and he had promised Steve he would not ask for anything that would make him uncomfortable. “It would make sense, since I am bound to you, that your touch would offer pleasure to contrast against the pain.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” Nothing further was said on the topic, but Steve’s mind was racing. Pain while apart, pleasure when touching, it sounded to him as though the potion had been designed to condition the victim into desiring, even worshiping, whoever they were bound to. It would ensure that, with sufficient time, the recipient would come to rely on their captor, even once the cure had been applied. He was a soldier, he had seen what the other side was capable of, and while the techniques of humans were rather different, it seemed that the results were the same. He didn’t like it one bit, and as Loki’s breathing slowed, the Asgardian relaxing against his side, he hoped that their research would prove fruitful before it was too late.

A knock at the door startled him from his thoughts, though before he had time to so much as consider his answer, Thor slipped quietly into the room, or at least as quietly as possible for a man of his size. Steve raised one hand to greet his friend, returning it to Loki’s back when the trickster god murmured his disapproval at the loss of contact, feeling it acutely even in sleep.

“He seems surprisingly relaxed, to sleep so soundly with another.” There was a deep crease between the thunder god’s brow as he stared down at his younger brother, concern clear upon his features. Reaching down, he gently moved a lock of hair from where it had fallen into Loki’s face, earning a small hum for the act. Steve had never seen Thor exhibit such tenderness, nor remain so quiet, and it was quite telling; he truly did adore his brother, more perhaps than Loki realised.

“I’m worried, Thor. This isn’t like him, or at least I don’t think it is. He’s your brother, you know him better than I do, what do you think?” Taking his time, Thor stood, his gaze wavering for only a moment.

“This is more akin to the brother I knew than the one I know now.” Thor’s expression relaxed into a small smile, recalling happier times. “He would often run to me for such comforts following a nightmare, or the teasing of the other children. That was some time hence, though, and he has not sought out the physical contact of another, as far as I am aware, for several years now.”

“I don’t like it, it feels too much like he’s being forced to want this, and that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The sooner we can find a way to break this curse, the better.” It left more than that, but Steve certainly did not wish to go into the details of his concerns with the overly protective older brother of the man he was presently bonded to, lest Thor think him a threat.

“You wish him gone?”

“I wish him cured.” He hadn’t meant to snap, it had simply slipped out, Loki curling closer and murmuring something unintelligible in his sleep at the sharp tone. “What he chooses to do, or not do, once he is back to normal is up to him. I’m just terrified of hurting him in the meantime, or of Loki hurting himself.”

“You care for him.” Thor seemed surprised, yet not angry, which hadn’t been what Steve had expected in the slightest. But then again, he hadn’t expected his secret to get out to not one, but both of the Asgardians on the same day. He never had been particularly good at hiding his feelings, he supposed, but it was still frustrating. “You would be a good match for my brother, I feel. You are kind and you are honorable, I am not concerned about his welfare as long as he is in your care. If you wish to pursue him, then you have my blessing.”

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, I’m doing nothing until we fix this damned curse.” Steve could not help the flush that coloured his cheeks, turning away and finding his sight filled with a slumbering Loki. Somehow, that made the blush worse.

“You are truly a man of honour, Steve Rogers.” Thor grinned, tugging another huge leather-bound tome from his satchel to join the others that had been piled at the end of the bed. “I have another, this one appears promising though I could be mistaken, Loki will be best placed to tell us once he wakes.”

“I can hear you, do not speak of me like I cannot.” Grumbling, Loki forced open one bright green eye to glare at his brother, Thor simply looking sheepish.

“Apologies, I had thought you sleeping.”

“I was, you are noisy.” With a yawn, Loki pushed himself up from Steve’s chest, reluctant to leave the comfort that the Captain’s touch offered. “What have you brought me?” Thor handed over the book as Steve pushed himself up, ensuring that his hands did not leave the milky expanse of Loki’s back.

“I know not if it will be of use, but it was from Mother’s private collection, so it may be of interest if nothing else.” Settling himself back against Steve’s chest, Loki flipped open the book and frowned, turning to the next page, and the next. “Is something the matter, brother?”

“This is not written in a language that I know, I cannot decipher it.” Frustrated, Loki ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands.

“What? That cannot be right, can you not make out the words?”

“Do you think me a liar?” Loki snarled, tensing up as Thor sat beside them to study the words, neither prince seemingly realising the ridiculousness of the question.

“No, brother, never that. Not where books are concerned, at least, you have always been so proud of your ability to read more languages than anyone else upon Asgard, I do not doubt your words, it simply came as a shock to me is all, when I can read it as clear as day.”

“So now you gloat? Alright then, if you can read it, tell me of what it speaks?” With a sneer, Loki all but threw the book back at his brother, Thor catching it deftly and flicking back to the page Loki had been trying to decipher.

“It appears to be a recipe of sorts, for a potion to ease the pain of childbirth. ‘One quart water from the well of blessings, and into it stir the crushed eggshells of hatched larkins, six pendula flowers and two horse hairs. Heat until the flowers dissolve and drink immediately.’ It does not sound particularly appetising.”

“How?” Loki snatched the book back, trying in vain to read the words that sprawled across the page. “How are you reading this?” He reached out with his magic, still weak but recovering more and more as the days passed, and tried to decipher the enchantment that lay within the pages. Finally the book thudded shut in his lap and Loki grew still, breaths coming swift and shallow.

“Brother?”

“Get out.” Loki’s voice was quiet, tone dangerous, but still Thor did not move, rooted to the spot by the near enough luminescent green eyes that had been narrowed at him in a look that could only be akin to hatred. “ _Get out!_ ” Practically screaming, he flung the book as hard as he could, narrowly missing Thor’s head and leaving a scuff mark on the wall behind him. He left then, finally, Loki glaring at the doorway long after Thor had departed.

“Loki?” Steve’s voice broke through the haze of red, leaving the Asgardian trembling slightly where he sat, suddenly becoming very much aware of the distance between the two of them. Steve, out of reflex, had taken hold of Loki’s ankle as he had moved, determined not to cause the other man more pain than was necessary. “You wanna tell me what that was all about?”

“It’s bewitched, enchanted.” The prince spat, unable to look into those trusting blue eyes any longer. “I cannot read it, will never be able to read it.”

“Why not?” Curiosity getting the better of him, and finding himself wishing he understood this magic nonsense even just a little, Steve shuffled over just far enough that he could easily reach Loki with both hands.

“Because of what I am.” The additional touch seemed to do little to quell the distress he was clearly feeling, and the words were spat out with such vehement self-loathing that Steve was taken aback.

“What do you mean, ‘what you are’? What does the enchantment do?”

“Only those of Asgardian blood may read that book, and it is an enchantment as old as the ages, I cannot break it.”

“But you are Asgardian, aren’t you?” The laugh that he earned sent chills down Steve’s spine, and the sneer upon Loki’s face was one he had hoped never again to witness, certainly not pointed at him.

“No, I very much am not. I am a monster, nothing more, and my _kind_ have no place reading the wisdom of Asgard.” Finally unable to take it any longer, Steve reached out with one arm, pulling Loki to him, holding him loosely against his chest. Loki moved when prompted, settling against the hard planes of muscle though not yet returning the embrace.

“Hey now, you’re a lot of things but you are _not_ a monster, no matter where you came from.” Strong fingers and a warm palm cupped the side of his face, thumb rubbing gently against his cheek as Steve smiled sadly up at him.

“Do not speak of which you do not know.” Loki snapped at him, though he did not pull away, instead leaning forward to rest his forehead against the Captain’s shoulder.

“I’m not. I don’t know where you’re from, or why you hate yourself so much, and I don’t profess to know. But to me you’re Loki. Just Loki. Nothing else matters aside from that.”

“Captain...” Pushing himself away, just far enough that he could look up into those sparkling blue eyes, so full of pain and _adoration_ , for _him_ of all people, and whatever Loki had intended on saying died upon his tongue. Pulling Steve to him, he meshed their lips together in a kiss that was built of desperation and hope. The mouth beneath his own reacted only a moment later, moving with the selfsame need that drove Loki forward. Fingers tangled in hair as they tumbled to the mattress, a mess of limbs, tongues dancing together.

“I thought we agreed on nothing until we broke the curse?” Steve finally panted as they broke apart. They had somehow ended up with the blonde pinned beneath Loki’s slighter frame, though neither could recall how.

“I promised only to protect your moral values, I wasn’t aware that kissing was included in the rather extensive list of banned activities.” It was so tempting to simply lean down and nip at those kiss-swollen lips, that strong neck, those broad shoulders. Loki knew he could not though, no matter how he wanted it, for fear of pushing too far too fast and risk denying himself what small pleasures he had been able to glean from the man so far. He was already pushing his luck, near enough proving himself a liar once more.

“I guess...kissing is fine.” And Steve presumed he must have said the right thing as, with a wicked grin, Loki leaned in to steal another long, searching kiss.


	6. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally a LOT longer and has been cut into two (possibly three) smaller chapters to keep it sensible. I've got quite a lot written for this fic, going forwards, but the next part of this is giving me problems, which is partly why I've decided to post this part now!

It was some weeks later, with no real progress on a way to break the spell, that Thor returned once more. Loki had almost fully recovered, and if not for his reliance on Steve would have likely been back to his old self. Without speaking, or perhaps knowing not to, the blonde prince handed over two books to his brother. One, the ancient tome that could not be read by any save those with Asgardian blood running through their veins. The other, a slightly thicker though clearly newer book, filled cover to cover with hastily scrawled text that Steve could not decipher, though Loki clearly could.

“What is this?” Leafing through the new addition to his growing pile of books, Loki’s face was unreadable, though Steve had a feeling he already knew the answer to his own question.

“You could not read it, where I can, and I cannot comprehend it, where you might. I simply decided to correct that small oversight of our ancestors.” Thor looked somewhat pleased with himself, though the expression was muted, with none of the usual brashness of the thunder god.

“You transcribed an entire tome, purely so that I may read it?” Glancing up, the look upon his face somewhere between incredulous and unmistakably pleased. “You do know Odin could banish you for this?”

“If he does, it would not be the first time, as well you know brother.” Steve expected Loki to flinch at that, surprised when all the younger prince did was shift slightly in his seat. “And, it would be worth it, if that book contains some small piece of knowledge that might lead you to the answers you seek.” He did not expect thanks, placing one large hand fondly upon Loki’s shoulder, before turning to leave as his brother began to work his way through the book in earnest, excitement palpable.

“Thor?” Hand resting upon the door handle, Thor turned at Loki’s voice, their eyes meeting for just a moment. Loki’s lips quirked up in the smallest of smiles, but it was enough, and as Thor left the room his own grin was bright enough to light the entire tower.

“You know we have a meeting with Fury in less than an hour?” Steve watched with amusement as Loki flicked through the book, then back again, cross referencing and absorbing as much information as he could. It always fascinated him how quickly the god of mischief could read, and even more so at just how much information he could retain.

“I am sure the director will not mind waiting if I am able to ascertain a counter-spell from this book and free you of your perceived obligation.” Loki huffed quietly, leaning into the gentle hand that rubbed at his back, beneath the lightweight shirt he had taken to wearing in place of his Asgardian leathers. It was thinner in the heat of summer, which Loki felt more than most, and offered far easier access to his skin when both of his hands were busy.

“It’s not an obligation, Loki.” Steve frowned, one hand tightening reflexively. “And besides, this is Fury we’re talking about. No, we are not skipping the meeting, not unless you feel like spending an hour or so without me while he gives me a dressing down.” Turning slightly in his seat, Loki pulled a face at that before delivering a long-suffering sigh.

“Alright fine, I shall attend your silly meeting, however the book is coming with me.”

“I don’t see him having a problem with that.” Steve chuckled, leaning in to place a soft kiss upon Loki’s neck, entirely too comfortable around the god. Loki simply hummed, angling his head away to reveal more milky, unmarred skin.

The meeting was long and dull, concerning the location of some minor Hydra factions that had made themselves known over the past few days. There was very little information, and yet with the small pockets of bickering that kept breaking out amongst the others it seemed to drag on for hours, Loki’s presence only seeming to make it worse. Clint was particularly irritable, and was taking it out on anyone and everyone, while Natasha tried to keep him calm and Fury looked as though he might put a bullet in him at any moment.

“We’re clearly not getting anywhere.” Bruce sighed, rubbing at his face, looking overly tired. “Why don’t we just-” Whatever he had been about to say at that point was cut short by the noise that Loki made, the god of mischief drawing the eyes of everyone in the room, his own impossibly wide as he stared down at the page before him, flicking back and forth as if not certain whether to believe what he had just found or not.

“Loki?” Huge green eyes turned to look at Steve, and for a moment he was rendered speechless, the hand within his own trembling slightly.

“I think I’ve found it.” Loki finally replied, voice deceptively calm compared to the tumultuous storm within his gaze.

“A cure? You can fix this?” The director had strode around to their side of the table, looking over Loki’s shoulder at the book, though he had little hope of translating the text.

“Not exactly.” Everyone in the room seemed to visibly deflate at that, Clint glaring across at Loki, unwilling to make comment while Fury was present. “However, I have found the original potion that it was derived from.”

“And just how is that supposed to help?” Fury sneered down at the god, his one good eye flashing with barely constrained anger.

“Because.” Loki started slowly, not looking up to meet the glare he felt burning into the top of his head. “With this, I now know what it was, how it was made and what the original purpose of the potion was.”

“So you know what Amora had planned for you?” Though the frustration was still present, that had piqued Fury’s curiosity at least a little, well aware of how dangerous the enchantress could be if left unchecked.

“Amora’s plans are her own, I don’t profess to know how her mind works, but I do now know it must have been something of great import.” 

“And how, pray tell, do you know that?”

“Because one of the ingredients of this potion is the heart of a frost giant.” Thor sucked in a breath from beside his brother, breaking the silence he had held since entering the room.

“That’s a big deal, I take it?” Turning to Thor, his anger fizzling out entirely, Fury awaited the thunder god’s answer.

“Frost giants have ever been the enemy of Asgard, and Jotunheim can no longer be reached easily from Asgard or any other realm. She would have gone to great lengths to procure one, and I dread to think what price she might have paid for it.” Thor replied slowly, his eyes not moving from Loki’s rigid form.

“Right, so yeah, a big deal.” Crossing his arms, Fury leant back against the table between the two brothers, gaze flicking back and forth between the two. “So, thoughts on this? Is this Amora going to be a threat?”

“Her usual focus is Thor, I do not know why she would wish to switch it to myself.” Loki hummed, turning the page once more, the potion and accompanying instructions spanning over several pages. “Unless there is another party involved, perhaps.”

“Someone with access to Jotunheim, and the ability to take down a giant.” Thor looked concerned, rubbing at the stubble that coated his chin, frown lines appearing upon his brow.

“Indeed, it would have to have been fresh for the spell to work, an hour old at most.” Nodding, Loki tapped his fore finger against the page, drawing Thor’s attention, the thunder god leaning around Fury to look at the line of text, not fully comprehending its meaning but getting a vague idea.

“So how would she have managed to procure a heart that fresh?”

“I can only assume that whoever her accomplice is supplied the potion itself, rather than the raw materials, else they have power enough to hop between worlds at speed.” More power than even he, Loki thought, and there were scarce few sorcerers alive who could claim such a thing.

“So we’re looking for another magic user, or other supremely powerful being, with a grudge against you?” Steve finally added, leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “Great, that makes this so much worse.”

“Not necessarily a grudge.” Chewing on the inside of his mouth, Loki’s brow furrowed as he read through the instructions once more. “You were correct in your initial estimation, Captain; this is designed to build dependancy. It is a potion to create willing, mindless slaves, so whoever she is working with wanted a tool, not revenge.”

“Or a toy.” Every pair of eyes in the room honed in on Tony, who simply crossed his arms defensively, taking in the varying looks of his teammates, from shock to horror and everything inbetween. “Oh come on, I can’t be the only one who came to that conclusion?”

“No, Stark.” Glancing back down at the book in his lap, Loki’s smile was not one of mirth, the expression not reaching his eyes. “You are not.” Steve felt physically sick, the grip on Loki’s hand tightening almost to the point of pain. That got Loki’s attention, turning to look quizzically at the Captain who would not meet his eyes.

“So Loki’s got an admirer with a thing for pain and who isn’t much up for conversations about consent.” Loki did not take his eyes off Steve as Tony spoke, watching as the Captain’s expression twisted into something pained, something ugly.

“They might not be a threat to _us_ though.” Clint added, the room growing silent. “What? I’m just saying, it might not be so bad.”

“For you, maybe.” He hadn’t snapped, but Sam’s firm tone brokered no argument. “No one deserves what Loki’s going through right now. Or Steve, for that matter, and if you think this whole thing’s okay just as long as _you’re_ not getting hurt, you’re not the man I thought you were, Barton.” Clint grew silent at that, mouth a thin line. He _didn’t_ agree, Loki knew, and the trickster god could hardly blame him, not after their rather unfortunate shared history.

“So how are we going to use this to our advantage?” Natasha leaned forwards in her seat, steepling her fingers and staring straight at Loki, who finally tore his gaze away from Steve to look at her. “Loki, thoughts?”

“Amora has remained silent, to my knowledge, since you bested her, and her accomplice has not yet made themselves known, so there is little we may do on that front for the moment.” Loki paused for a moment, glancing around the room, taking in the varied expressions of those gathered around the table. “If my opinion is wanted, I should say that the search for the cure will need to continue, and I now have a reference from which I can work, which will make this easier.”

“And what if there isn’t a way to fix this? What if it’s permanent?” A lock of red hair fell in front of her eyes and she swiped it back, tucking it behind her ear without losing focus.

“There are no known spells, at least that I have come across, without a counter-spell weaved within them. Potions are a little more complex, due to the physical nature of the liquid itself, but the same basic rules still apply.” He explained lowly, his free hand making vague motions in the air to stop the slight fidgit that he had not been able to suppress.

“Well, that sounds like a start.” She sat back again then, a curious expression on her face, eyes still locked on the younger prince’s face as though trying to discern something important that had escaped her.

“There is also the possibility, though remote, that the as yet unread portion of this tome contain the answers that we seek. I hold little hope of that being the case, but it is still a possibility nonetheless.” Loki continued, trying not to let her unnerve him and not exactly succeeding. By stark contrast to the Hawk, the Spider had proved more than once that she was a worthy and terrifying adversary, and not one he wished to cross again any time in the near future.

"I’m not happy sitting around waiting for a ‘maybe’ from you. We need Cap back on the front line yesterday, and you’re the only thing keeping him from his duty.” Fury piped in again then, moving back to the front of the room to address the table, turning his back on Loki.

“You may take the Captain whenever you wish, I cannot stop you.” There was almost a look of surprise on his features when Fury turned back to look at him when Loki spoke, but the man was only marginally more expressive than Heimdall and frustratingly hard to read, seemingly caught in a perpetual state of irritation.

“That would be more trouble than your ass is worth.” Loki was certain he saw a spark of wry amusement cross the Director’s face, but it was gone too quickly for him to be entirely certain. “Alright, any of the rest of you got any bright ideas?”

“I’ve got a few theories, nothing concrete yet, but if Loki’s okay with it I’d like to run some further tests, try to see exactly what triggers these fits?” Bruce leaned forward, glancing around the table before turning his attention back to Fury. It was quite interesting, Loki thought, how the man who so often hid himself away and sought solitude was so desperate to ensure none present felt left out and alone. The man was easy to read, too trusting and it would be a simple enough matter to manipulate him, if not for the hulking monster lurking behind those kind eyes, stilling his hand.

“I will submit willingly to your testing.” Dipping his head graciously at Banner, he received a small smile back in return.

“There are a number of powerful and wise Asgardians whom I could ask for assistance, now that we have more information. I may be able to find something further.” Thor added, addressing the table rather than Fury himself, a fact that was not missed by the Director.

“Alright, good, that’s three options total. Anyone else?” Fury expected little else to be added to the conversation, preparing to change topics back to the more important business of dealing with Hydra.

“I could put an arrow in him? Save everyone a lot of trouble.” Clint groused, not looking at Loki, not looking at anyone particularly, and Loki found himself at least partly surprised at the displeased response from the others.

“Barton-”

“No! He was in my _head_ , has everyone aside from me forgotten that particular detail? He doesn’t even deserve to still be _alive_ , never mind here, under Avengers protection, sleeping with Captain-Fucking-America!” The archer was breathing heavily, nose flared and eyes fixed on Loki, unblinking. It might have been unnerving, if not for the fact that Loki did not consider him to be a threat in any capacity, and Agent Barton had yet to prove him wrong. It took, by Loki’s count, all of three seconds for the room to explode.

“Now that is way outta line.”

“Clint, _no_ , you can’t just-”

“Stand down, Barton!”

“Enough!” If Steve’s furious shout had not silenced every soul in the room, the thunderous impact of his clenched fist upon the tabletop and the inevitable cracking of the smooth wooden surface would have. “This meeting is over.” Standing, he all but wrenched Loki from his seat, making for the door without looking back.

“No, Captain, it’s not.” The Director called after him, stern countenance enough to still all but the most determined of soldiers, and Steve was nothing if not determined.

“Yes,” Pausing for a moment to look over his shoulder at Fury, and if looks could kill none in that room would have remained standing. “It is.” Steve pushed Loki out the door before him so that he could ensure it slammed on the way out. Childish, perhaps, but it made him feel at least a little better.


	7. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that was never meant to exist.
> 
> The change between the last chapter and the next was too jarring, so I've added a couple more in between, which hopefully you will enjoy!

Loki was certain that he had never seen the Captain quite so angry. He was furious, seething with rage, practically vibrating with it and Loki knew to remain silent as he was dragged near-forcefully through the long corridors away from the meeting room and to the elevator that would take them back to Steve’s floor. The protesting creak of metal was audible as Steve pressed the button to call the lift a little too hard, the light behind the button giving out, but the Captain did not notice, bundling Loki into the confined space and giving the button for his floor much the same treatment.

“Captain?” There was something about the Captain like this, focused and unrelenting and _violent_ , it sent a thrill through Loki, excitement and the flutterings of fear combining as one, a low pulse of heat gathering in his belly. He kept his voice low, almost meek, concern etched upon his features as he tugged upon the hand crushing his own.

Steve’s attention turned to him, then, and the man staring back at him behind blazing blue eyes was not one that he recognised. Loki realised, in the times that they had fought each other, and the times they had fought together, he had never truly seen the fury held within Captain America. He had thought, once or twice, that Steve had perhaps come close to losing his temper, but it was nothing compared to this.

There was an intensity to that gaze, and the air within the lift seemed to still and stop, Loki forgetting how to breathe in the moment before Steve was upon him, pressing him back against the metal wall and kissing him with such a voracity that Loki could not help but moan out his own want, wrapping long legs around the Captain’s waist, trapped between a wall of metal and a wall of muscle. Steve’s hands gripped at his upper thighs, at his ass, fingers digging in hard enough that Loki thought he might actually bruise.

When the Captain pulled back, it was only for a moment, Loki gulping down shuddering breaths as a hot mouth descended upon his neck, biting and sucking and he knew there would be marks there but he didn’t much care. His body was screaming for this, had been for too long, and oh how he _wanted_.

And Steve wanted him. Not Loki the prince, not Loki the powerful sorcerer, he simply wanted _Loki_ and that was something he had not experienced before and likely wouldn't again. A haze of need fogged his mind, and Loki realised somewhat distantly that he was painfully hard, rutting up against the Captain’s belly, needy little noises spilling from his lips. This was desire as he had never known it, unrelenting and merciless, and it wasn’t until Steve bit down on his neck a little _too_ hard, drawing blood, that clarity was able to break through for just a moment, jarring and painful.

Steve would never willingly hurt him. Even as the Captain’s hot tongue ran over the wound, soothing the throb, Loki knew that this whole thing was undeniably _wrong_.

“Captain-” Loki was cut off by another sharp bite, gasping under the sensation. “Captain, stop.” His voice was high, wavering, pleas going unanswered. At any other time, under any other circumstances, he would have taken everything Steve was willing to give him and more, but this was not what Steve would want. This wasn’t Steve. “Steve, _stop!_ ”

Steve did stop then, pulling back to stare up at Loki, pupils blown and cheeks flushed, but the intensity had fled when the haze had lifted. He could taste blood in his mouth, see the thin trail that was pooling in Loki’s collarbone and soaking into his shirt. He panicked.

Loki ended up on the floor, pressing himself back against the cool metal of the elevator as the last of his arousal left him, replaced by the same searing pain always present whenever Steve was not. Steve himself was back against the opposite wall, near enough trying to meld with it, eyes wide in horror at what he had done. He watched, unseeing, as Loki writhed in agony, before snapping out of that too and dragging the other man into his arms with mumbled apologies and trembling fingers.

“Loki! Loki _please_ , I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- hadn’t meant to-” Steve’s left hand hand buried itself in Loki’s hair, keeping him pressed against the Captain’s neck, while the other slid up under his shirt to splay across his back.

“Do not-” He paused, gasping in lungfuls of air as he tried to steady himself. “Do not fuss Captain, I am fine.” He did not sound fine, did not _feel_ fine, but as the pain fled and his wits returned, Loki found himself curling against Steve with a small sigh. The agony had left him faster that time, though he was still trembling, and he wondered at that. Steve hadn’t seemed to notice - why would he? It wasn’t until Loki finally looked up that he noticed his Captain’s eyes were wet. “I should like to retire to the bedroom, if at all possible. I am quite tired.”

“Of course, yes.” Mouth turned down into an unhappy frown, Steve helped him to stand, though for a moment Loki thought the man might scoop him up and carry him, bridal style, down the hall to their rooms. Steve’s rooms, he corrected himself. There was no indication that he would be allowed to stay once the issue had been resolved. And did he truly want to? Loki had no answer to that yet.

The bed was comfortable, and the covers warm, but as Loki stripped off his shirt - blood-stained and missing two buttons - he did not miss how Steve glanced away, shame visible upon his features. “Tell me,” Loki settled himself upon the pillows, hand clasped in Steve’s though neither tried to entwine their fingers as was normal. Nothing about this was normal. “Does it bother you, the thought of being with me? Are you ashamed of what we might have?” And what did they have? Neither had yet put a name to it, and it felt to fragile to truly voice, Loki only knew that he did not wish to let the man go.

“ _No!_ Of course not, if I was do you think I’d be this open about it? I’d shout it from the rooftops if I didn’t think it would get you killed.” He looked so earnest, so open and fragile, that Loki was almost tempted to believe him. A part of him, the part he had spent so long trying to push down, away, screamed that the Captain had never been anything other than honest, and that knowledge - however much he tried to ignore it - was chipping away at his carefully constructed walls.

“The others believe that I have seduced you.” There was a note of bitterness there, and as much as he tried to quash it, the feeling resurfaced.

“They know better. They might not agree with my choice, but it’s _my_ choice, and I don’t regret it.” Steve’s hand was upon his cheek, and Loki could not help but lean into it, lashes fluttering slightly at the overly gentle touch.

“You might.” There was fear there, deep set and impossible to dislodge, because _he did not deserve this_. After everything he had done, everyone he had hurt, he did not deserve such tenderness, such adoration.

“I won’t.” Steve replied firmly, mouth set and eyes sharp. “We do need to talk about what just happened though.”

Loki twitched and looked away, not able to meet Steve’s eyes, to see the shame and loathing he thought might reside there. “Do we? I’d have thought it was fairly clear.”

“I lost _control_ , Loki! How can you be so calm about it? I almost-”

“But you didn’t.” Interrupting his tirade, unable to stand the distance any longer, Loki pulled at the Captain’s arm until Steve curled around him, leaving the barrier of covers in place. “I asked you to stop and you stopped, no harm has been done.”

“But I almost couldn’t.” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper. Burying his face in Loki’s neck, he held the man close, arms almost painfully tight around Loki’s waist and chest. “I don’t know what happened, I was just so _angry_ , and then-” He wondered if perhaps this was how it felt to Bruce, the feeling of losing control, of having it _taken_ from him. It was frightening, and it left a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. It had only been anger, at first, but then he had looked at Loki and his senses had fled.

“It will be linked to the spell, Captain. You need not berate yourself.”

“Just Steve, please? I don’t feel much like a Captain right now.” He sounded so utterly miserable that Loki could not help himself, turning in the embrace and pushing the covers far enough down that he could press up against Steve’s chest.

“Steve, then.” A small, chaste kiss upon Steve’s chin, and Loki know not to push for more. “The binding likely triggers a response in the other party as well, as a way of ensuring the will of the spell is carried out.”

“The will of the spell?”

“Yes, all spells are imbued with a ‘will’ at the time of their inception, a purpose if you will. This can sometimes be changed, altered, but it ensures that the original purpose of the incantation or potion cannot be ignored. Some are more simple and straightforward than others. Were I to decide to transform Barton into a frog, for example, the purpose is fulfilled immediately; he becomes a frog.”

“You could do that?” Steve frowned, and Loki wondered whether he was considering it or disapproving of the idea.

“I have no idea, I was aiming for humour.” He had missed, it seemed, though not by too much.

“Oh, I see. Sorry.” At least he got a small smile out of the man, that would do for now Loki thought.

“Some spells are a lot more complex.” Loki continued unperturbed, shifting to try to get more comfortable. “I have one I am particularly pleased with; the conjuring of tiny creatures, no bigger than your Midgardian fireflies and with a glow twice as bright. They will follow whomever I will them to, lighting the way, until they reach their intended destination.”

“So the purpose of those is to make light?”

“Almost, but not quite.” With a small smile, Loki took Steve’s hand, pulling him from the bed. With very little concentration he summoned up three of the things, small and harmless, letting them buzz around Steve’s head for a while as the Captain watched them, entranced, realising with a barely constrained delight that they were miniature _dragons_. “Come with me.”

“They’re beautiful.” Steve did follow, and the firefly-dragons floated on ahead, though it was barely dark enough for them to make much of a difference in the light of dusk.

“This would be more impressive in an hour or so.” Loki lamented, opening one of the large windows and willing the tiny lights to float out through it. Almost immediately, they shot up into the sky, exploding in a burst of red, white and blue, colours picked specifically for his Captain. “ _That_ is their intended purpose, their will.” The initial explosion of colour started to fade, before three more of each brightened the sky, and three again, disappearing into the dimming light.

“That’s _incredible_.” The pain had not quite fled from Steve’s eyes, but his smile was brighter and the frown lines upon his forehead less prominent. “Loki, that was amazing.” Steve turned to him, pulled him close, and for a moment everything felt _right_. The lightest brush of lips against his own, a firm hand upon his hip, and Loki felt the pulse of need return, turning into the kiss to deepen it.

Steve pulled back like he had been shot, eyes wide and the familiar dilation of his pupils catching Loki’s attention immediately. He could see, from the panicked look the Captain had leveled at him, that he had almost lost control again, from a simple _kiss_.

“Sirs?” JARVIS’ interruption stalled whatever Loki had been about to say, and he scowled up at the ceiling, as though the AI could see his displeasure.

“Yes, JARVIS?” Steve replied, voice carrying a slight tremble.

“Doctor Banner would like to see you both in his laboratory, as soon as possible.”

“Yes, thank you. Tell him-” Licking his lips, Steve glanced back at Loki for a moment, at the defensive and almost hurt demeanor of the other man. “Tell him we’ll be right there.”


	8. Science Experiment

“Before you ask, yes I did see what happened after you left the meeting, and no I am not judging you for it.” Bruce did not look up as Steve pushed the door open, stepping into the lab with Loki trailing in behind him, more subdued than was typical. “Sit, both of you, I need blood samples and I want to run a couple of tests.” He waved vaguely at a cot that had been set up against one wall, and Steve did as asked, face flaming in the knowledge that their confrontation in the elevator had not only been seen, but also recorded, which meant in all likelihood every one of his friends and half of SHIELD were going to bear witness to his lack of control.

“You said you had theories, Doctor Banner? I would be interested in hearing them.” Loki settled himself on the cot beside Steve, sitting closer than was strictly necessary. The lab was well-stocked and a little cluttered, screens floating midair in various points around the room as Bruce poked and prodded at the projected data.

“Bruce is fine, no need to be so formal.” Dragging a stool over and placing a small tablet computer down on the bed beside Loki’s hip, Bruce sat himself down and started preparing a syringe, taking blood samples first from Steve, then Loki, before wandering over to the other side of the lab to store the samples. “I’m going to run tests on the samples overnight, see what they tell us about what’s going on. I’ve got samples of your blood Steve, from before this all started, I want to see what - if anything - has changed from being around Loki in this state. Loki, I’m afraid I haven’t got anything to compare yours to, so it might be a bit of a stab in the dark.”

“Quite.” Loki muttered, not looking particularly impressed, though he could only glance down when Steve frowned at him.

“You want to tell me what happened in the lift?” Bruce was back, sitting on his stool, having wheeled closer to Steve and staring over at him in concern. His tone was gentle, but it didn’t stop the heavy, shame-filled flush from coating Steve’s cheeks.

“I lost control.” Steve’s voice was low, quiet to the point where it was near inaudible, the strength and confidence he usually held long gone. “I lost control, and I almost-”

“You stopped.” It was too much, listening to the Captain berate himself over and over for something that wasn’t his fault, was _Loki’s_ fault. “When I asked, you stopped.”

“Loki…”

“No, you cannot do this to yourself. You have done nothing wrong. This entire thing is my fault, and I will not have you taking responsibility for my failings.” Steve was holding onto his hand so firmly, and Loki gripped back just as hard.

“Can you tell me what you felt?”

“Angry, I was furious at Clint for being- for what he said. I wanted to hit something, to break something, maybe a couple of punching bags.”

“And then what happened?”

“I spoke. It drew the Captain’s attention, and I believe that is when the will of the spell made itself known.” Bruce gave Loki a curious look at that but did not question further. His attention was still, primarily, focused on Steve, who was breathing shallowly and squeezing Loki’s hand almost rhythmically.

“How did that feel?”

“It was like…” Steve paused, thinking for a moment. “Almost like I was being propelled forward, like some sort of invisible force was pushing me, and I couldn’t fight it because I didn’t _want_ to.”

“Has this happened before?”

“No, but…”

“But?” Bruce prompted with a small, reassuring smile.

“It happened...again...just before JARVIS called for us. It wasn’t as intense, but it was still there.”

“Do you know what triggered it that time? What was different?”

“It happened when I kissed Loki.” Steve saw Bruce’s eyebrow go up, almost in amusement, but to his credit he remained silent on the matter, despite Steve’s obvious discomfort. “I was able to pull back before it took hold.”

“Alright, it sounds like whatever this is, it’s going to get worse before it gets better, and there’s no doubt in my mind that this spell is affecting you just as much as it’s affecting Loki, just in different ways.”

“How is that even possible?”

“I’m not certain yet, but it could be the constant contact. If the spell is travelling through Loki’s skin and into yours, that would be one way.” Bruce had moved away, tapping at his tablet before setting it down to turn his attention to the larger screens. “Bodily fluids are another possibility. Saliva is a good transmitter, as is seminal fluid, so two more options.” 

“I...no, I mean...we haven’t...that is…” Steve was mortified, flushed red and unable to meet Bruce’s eyes when he glanced over.

“What the Captain means to say is, I have left his virtue entirely intact.” Loki chuckled softly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Oh good, that means Tony owes me fifty bucks.” Bruce grinned, setting up a series of sensors around the bed. Steve simply gawped at him, still red as a tomato, while Loki snickered quietly to himself.

“You _bet_ on whether we were sleeping together?” The expressions on Steve’s face warred between shocked and incredulous, never quite settling on just the one.

“In my defence, he was being infuriating about it, take off your shirt please.” Steve did as he was told, Loki’s arm wrapping around his bare waist as Bruce attached a series of sticky pads to his chest and torso. “I informed him that you were more of a romantic and a gentleman than that.”

“And Stark assumed that, because we share a bed, intimacy must also follow.” Loki drawled, entirely unimpressed. “I am thankful that I am not bound to he, that is for certain.”

“Tony’s got a one-track mind when it comes to relationships, there’s no doubting that. Loki, I need your shirt off as well.”

“You wish to see me naked, Doctor?”

“No, I want to work out what’s happening with you two, now strip please so we can get on with the test.” Surprised at Bruce’s firm yet jovial tone, Loki did as he was asked, not bothering to unfasten the buttons on the too large shirt, simply pulling it over his head, a twinge of pain making him twitch when Steve’s hand landed just a little too late on his bare back while the other released too early.

“So what’s this test for?” The same pads were attached to Loki’s chest, and Bruce switched on the sensors and machinery that he had gathered around the cot, setting the computer to record the data being fed back into them.

“I want to record how your bodies react normally, when there’s very little stimulus, and then see what happens if we change the variables. Tell me, Loki, how are you finding living in the tower? I know you’ve not really seen much of it, not yet anyway, but what do you think?”

“It is pleasant enough, different from what I am used to, but I have no complaints.”

“What about the food? Has Steve shown you all that ‘Midgard’ has to offer, yet?”

“It is, again, not what I am used to. I sampled some before my time here, and far more since, but I should imagine there is much still to discover. Why these questions? Surely my diet is of little concern in your test?”

“Actually, your diet is pretty important, but that’s not the reason. I need a base reading from both of you before we start, and the best way to do that is to chat, so that’s what we’re doing. Have you tried Jamaican food yet?”

“I do not know.” Turning to Steve, the blonde simply shrugged.

“It’s not one that’s on my radar, sorry. I don’t think even _I’ve_ had Jamaican food.”

“JARVIS, let Tony know we’re ordering out tonight. Jamaican, Steve and Loki are joining us.”

“Certainly sir.” The AI grew silent for a moment, while Bruce waited. “Mr Stark would like to know if Mr Laufeyson and Mr Rogers like their food hot, and should he order fries as well.”

“No, not hot, I don’t like too much spice.” Steve hadn’t forgotten the time Tony had placed a curry down in front of him, without telling him what was in it, and Steve had downed an entire carton of milk trying to chase away the burn.

“I will have whatever Steve chooses.” Loki added noncommittally, though he had a feeling that Steve knew as much about what was being ordered as he did.

“Mild for both, and no to the fries, he never eats them.”

“Very well sir. Mr Stark has ordered and the food will arrive in just over an hour.”

“Okay, well that’s dinner sorted, and I think I have enough data for the first part of the test.” Bruce made a few small adjustments to his sensors, checked the readings again and nodded, pleased. “Now you might not like this part.”

“Because sitting half naked on a table being scanned is such an enjoyable experience.” Loki was fiddling with the edge of the thin sheet that covered the hard bed, lips pursed in an expression that Steve knew meant boredom more than irritation.

“Not much longer, I promise. Steve, I want you to kiss Loki.” Steve balked at that, staring for a moment before he was able to regain his composure.

“Sorry, what?”

“I need to see what happens, what triggers the responses you’ve been experiencing, to see if we can stop them or at least tone them down enough that you can control it.” Bruce explained calmly, frowning at one of the readings before making an adjustment.

“Oh, right.” He had turned to partially face Loki without particularly realising it, and as Steve licked his lips he suddenly felt nervous. “Is this alright with you?”

“Captain, any time I get to taste your lips is fine with me.” The kiss that followed was slow, sweet, and with a hint of self-conscious nervousness. Banner was more interested in the readings from his machines than in the kiss itself, but it didn’t change the fact that there was someone else present and that thought made Steve more than a little uncomfortable.

“No change.” Bruce hummed to himself as they pulled apart, making more adjustments and chewing on his lip in thought. “Did you feel anything?”

“It wasn’t the same, no.”

“Something’s different. The first time it happened, you were angry. The second time...what did you feel the second time it happened?”

“I was...happy, excited.” He turned to Loki then, small smile playing on his lips. “I really did like those fireworks.”

“Then I shall treat you to more once night has fallen.”

“What about you, Loki? What’s missing for you, here, that was there both times before?” Loki thought back for a moment, and there was one thing that particularly stood out; arousal. In the elevator, he had wanted Steve to touch him, to take him, and when Steve had kissed him in their rooms, he had felt it again, twitching and surging within him.

“I can think of one thing, though the Captain may not like it.”

“I’m sure I can handle it, whatever it is.” He sounded so certain, and the squeeze of fingers around his hand was reassuring. Still, Loki paused for a moment before continuing, uncertain of himself.

“I wanted you. Both times, when you kissed me, I wanted nothing more than for you to bend me over and make me yours.” Loki was surprised when Steve did not blush, instead leaning into him slightly.

“As a doctor, that’s fascinating. As a friend, way too much information.” He was watching Steve’s reaction curiously, the sensors picking up an increase in heart rate and brain activity while one of his other machines started producing a low beep, the sensor recording something strange in the air.

“Should we stop?” Steve asked quietly, visibly pulling himself back and pushing away the rising need, though the hunger in his eyes remained.

“No, the sooner I can get these results, the sooner I can start working on something that might help. Try again, when you’re ready.” It started much the same, a slow, languid kiss, Steve humming softly into Loki’s mouth as Loki parted his lips to allow the Captain entrance, pressing forward a little to coax Steve to go a little faster, a little harder. The hand that had come to rest upon his hip trailed down, just slightly, and Loki shivered, starting to feel the first few tendrils of desire reaching up to pool in his belly.

Steve pushed forwards a little harder, nipping at Loki’s lower lip before kissing a trail down his neck, stopping at his collarbone to bite and lick at the protruding flesh. It was enough to leave Loki panting softly, needy little whines escaping from his throat. He raised his arms to tangle shaking fingers in Steve’s hair, letting himself be pushed back on the cot. He was hard, almost painfully so, the fabric of his pants straining around the solid flesh of his cock as Steve positioned himself atop Loki’s body and ground down. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could tell that Steve was holding back, resisting the pull that had forced them together, but as he surged up against the broad form of the Captain he found he didn’t much care.

The room faded to nothing, sounds and smells becoming obsolete as they moved together so perfectly. _This_ was what he had needed, had missed for a thousand years, and he never wanted it to end.

“So I know you said not to order fries, but-woah!” Tony stopped in his tracks, door swinging shut behind him, eyes wide and fixed on the two forms moving together on the medical bed, partially hidden by medical equipment. The large laboratory felt claustrophobic, air heavy and laced with something he could almost taste, awakening something he did not want to think about.

“Tony.” Bruce beckoned him over, standing over on the far side of the room, having put as much distance between himself and his experiment as he could.

“Shouldn’t we, yanno, stop them?” He couldn’t take his eyes off the pair, Loki’s long and slender limbs wrapped tightly around Steve, mewling and breathy cries of pleasure spilling from his lips as Steve ground down against him, the muscles in his back tensing and shifting as he moved.

“Trust me, I’ve tried. I can’t get near.”

“Let me give it a go.”

“ _No_ , Tony!” Three strides across the lab and Tony could already feel it, the pull of something unseen and dangerous, and it was only the strength of Bruce hauling him forcibly back that stopped his advancement.

“What the fuck was that?” Wide-eyed and with his pulse racing, Tony retreated back against the far wall, wondering if perhaps leaving the room altogether would have been a better idea. He could feel his body reacting with far too much interest, breathing a little too fast and heat tugging at his skin.

“Pheromones, as far as I can tell.” Bruce replied, his concern evident and Tony could see from the flush of his cheeks that he had not been entirely unaffected either. “The readings are off the charts, it shouldn’t even be possible for this sort of thing to happen.”

“Loki _is_ Asgardian.”

“Yeah but even taking that into account, using Thor as a basis for comparison and the general times-three that we work from, this shouldn’t be possible.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t think it’s just Loki. I think that this - whatever - is affecting Steve now as well. It’s a physical impossibility for the cells in Loki’s body to be producing chemicals on this scale. Well, that’s on the assumption his body’s working in the way a mammal’s might. Insects are a bit different, so just be thankful he’s not a butterfly. With his body mass, the majority of this half of the planet would potentially be affected.”

“Oh that isn’t good, at all.” Tony frowned, flicking at a couple of the charts before him, data feeding into them and constantly updating the figures. “I’m not sure which idea is worse; Loki growing a set of wings or Steve kicking out sex hormones. Is there any way we can know for sure?”

“Right now? Not really. I’m not equipped to test for this sort of thing, it was pure chance that I had the equipment I needed just for _this_ test.”

“So we buy it in for next time, just tell me what you need and it’s yours.”

“There’s a problem with that; what I need doesn’t exist. The sensors I’m using are my own design, there isn’t anything else out there like them.”

“I guess we have some inventing to do, then.” A low cry from the other side of the room drew his attention, and Tony turned just in time to see Loki arch up against Steve, mouth open as he shuddered and jerked. Steve thrust against him twice more and stilled, his own moan course, the sound muffled by Loki’s shoulder as he bit down before collapsing bodily atop the other man. “Shit, that’s hotter than it should be.” Almost immediately, the air seemed to clear, both Bruce and Tony breathing a joint sigh of relief as the heavy weight was lifted.

“I’ve got a few ideas, if you wanted to-” A crash behind them caught both of their attentions, spinning around to see Steve leaning bodily against the end of the bed, one of Bruce’s sensors having been knocked over as he’d stumbled away from Loki. The realisation of what he had just done hit him full force, face twisting in horror and grief as his knees gave way, sending him crashing to the floor. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, stomach twisting so violently that he thought he might be sick.

“Shit Cap, what’ve you got yourself into this time?” Tony was at his side in a moment, kneeling beside him and dragging Steve in for what wasn’t quite a hug, but it was contact and Steve could not help but lean into it, head resting on Tony’s shoulder as the billionaire rubbed his back. He was gasping for air, eyes burning behind closed lids. His fingers tangled together in his lap, and he was shaking hard, the hate and self loathing setting in.

Bruce busied himself seeing to Loki, removing the pads from his chest as the god slept on, far more exhausted than he should have been. Bruce noted with some concern the dark circles that had appeared around Loki’s eyes, the unusual pallor of his skin and the bruises that were forming over his arms and chest. He frowned, slipping a sheet over the Asgardian to keep him warm, though the shivers did not cease. This was not the Loki who had walked into his lab some hour passed, and he had witnessed enough of their intimacy to know that Steve had done nothing to cause the marks that peppered his skin - at least on that occasion. It didn’t make sense, and he could not work it out.

“I’m a monster.” The shaking wouldn’t stop, and the sob that loosed itself from Steve’s chest was dry. He felt sticky, dirty and the shame burned within him, tearing him apart.

“No, you’re not. You’re Steve Rogers, saviour of the Earth, bleeding heart extraordinaire, terrible at cards and, at the moment, affected by some sort of spell.”

“You saw, you _saw_ what I did! I-”

“Yeah, you’re right, I did see. I saw one of my best friends fighting against a force that can’t be reasoned with, can’t be beaten. I saw him holding himself back against _impossible_ odds, when any other person on the _planet_ would have ripped Loki’s clothes off and had their way with him, whether he wanted it or not. I’ve seen Bruce’s notes, I saw the footage; he asked you to stop before, and you did. You _stopped_. If that was anything like what I’ve just witnessed, I can tell you for a fact that not _one_ other person in this building would have been able to.”

“But-”

“No, Steve, he’s right. None of us would have been able to resist the spell, not with what it was doing. You found the best possible solution to a truly awful situation, and it was entirely my fault. I put you in that situation in the first place, and you have to believe I’m truly sorry.” Bruce had crouched down at Steve’s side, and though Steve would not look at him he could hear the regret in Bruce’s voice.

“You can’t blame yourself for this, and don’t you dare blame Loki either.” There were fingers threading gently through his hair, and Steve let himself relax into them, leaning against Tony’s shoulder for a good few minutes, trying to calm his racing heartbeat and gather the tangle of his thoughts.

“Hey, Steve?” Bruce had moved away, clearing some of the sensors so that they would not join the now-broken device on the floor should Loki awaken suddenly. He had stopped, though, and was staring down at the trickster god, his face unreadable. “You’re not touching him.”


	9. The Calm

They had found a chair for him to sit in, more comfortable than the floor though Steve barely noticed. He sat, listless and lethargic, as Tony and Bruce went over the data they had managed to gather from the pair, watching them huddle together and mumble in tones too quiet for him to hear. Loki slept on, peaceful and undisturbed, for just over a half hour before the first twinges started. Steve hadn’t noticed at first, taking Loki’s shifting on the bed to be a simple dream nothing more. It wasn’t until the first whimper that he finally turned, eyes locking on the form on the bed and Steve’s heart dropped into his stomach.

Loki had curled in on himself, clutching at his knees as he trembled and twitched, the tiniest murmurings of pain spilling past clenched teeth. He had bitten through his bottom lip, the blood dripping down onto the white sheets, and while his eyes were open his gaze was unseeing. Cursing his own stupidity, Steve bundled Loki into his arms, tearing the sheet out of the way so he could pull the man to his still bare chest. The scrape of his chair against the polished floor drew Tony’s attention, frowning at the distressed noises now coming from the bed, at the quiet shushing from Steve and the muttered nonsense that seemed to be calming the god.

“Looks like it wasn’t a permanent solution.” Bruce looked up then, watching as Loki curled tightly against Steve’s chest, whimpers ceasing until only Steve’s voice remained.

“No, but it’s a start.” Tony replied, and whatever reply Bruce had in mind was cut short.

“Sirs, the food has arrived. Shall I arrange to have it brought up?” JARVIS’ voice made Steve flinch, not expecting it, wrapping his arms more tightly around Loki, a subconscious desire to protect the man taking over.

“No, I think it’s time we got out of here. JARVIS, have the food sent up to the penthouse and warn anyone up there that we’re coming up.”

“Why don’t you both go and get changed? I’ll make sure Tony doesn’t eat the lot before you get there.” Bruce handed over the shirts they had removed earlier, Steve wordlessly taking both. The room around them vanished, replaced near-instantly with his own rooms, the change disturbing and sudden enough that he ended up sprawled on the floor with Loki in his lap.

“Sorry, I should have warned you.” There might have been guilt there, but it was too mixed up into everything else Loki was feeling for him to notice.

“No, it’s fine. Better than walking anyway.” The small smile that Steve offered him hurt more than it helped. Loki pushed himself up, tugging Steve along with him, wincing at the dry, cracking sensation at the front of his pants.

“I believe a shower may be in order.” He wrinkled his nose at the dry, unpleasant sensation of his own spend within his boxers.

“Yeah, probably a good idea. New jeans as well, I don’t think I can get away with wearing these again.” Steve grinned at him and some of the tension fled as Loki chuckled, shucking off his own pants and peeling away the boxers, leaving them on the bedroom floor. He stood still for a moment, letting Steve lean against him as the Captain stripped off as well, leaving them both bare and shivering slightly, the window still open and letting in a cold draft.

“When this is all over, I should very much like to get away from this place with you for a while.” Loki hummed, looping his arms over Steve’s shoulders and around his neck, the desire well at bay for the moment at least. “Perhaps to Vanaheim, or Alfheim, both are equally lovely. You have seen so little of the other realms as yet, I believe it is time that I opened your eyes to what wonders they hide.”

“That would be nice.” The smile Steve gave him this time was wide and sweet, and it set Loki’s heart thumping within his chest. “I’d like that. I can’t remember the last time I had a holiday.”

The shower passed too quickly, innocent touches and light kisses as they cleaned themselves and each other. It took less than twenty five minutes start to finish for them to clean off and towel down, heading up to the penthouse suite for food in clean clothes and with lighter spirits. Steve’s stomach growled in the elevator and Loki smiled, gripping his hand tighter.

“Finally! Bruce wouldn’t let me eat until you guys got here.” Tony whined as they made their way over to the coffee table that had been set up with plates and cutlery. “I’m so hungry I might _die_.”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic.” Bruce laughed, pulling the bags of take out from the warming drawer that Tony had installed after the third time his food was left to go cold.

“Well it’s the truth. I’m wasting away here, nothing but skin and bones.” He flopped sideways, aiming for dramatic but settling with pathetic, winding up stretched out over both Steve and Loki’s laps.

“I fear he may be speaking the truth, my darling, I shall have to investigate further to be certain though.” The serious look Loki threw at Steve was betrayed only by the sparkle of mischief in his eyes, Steve catching on almost immediately and smirking back.

“Of course, dearest, how can I help?”

“Hold the patient for me, and I will begin.”

“Wha-” Tony’s protest was cut short as strong hands gripped his shoulders, holding him in place as Loki’s fingers found his sides, just under his ribs, and curled up on themselves. “Oh no, no _no_ -” It _tickled_ , and Loki knew it, repeating the action until Tony was writhing and jerking against Steve’s hands, breathless laughter falling from his lips as he tried in vain to escape his tormentors.

“The hell?” Sam stood in the doorway, Thor just behind with a puzzled look upon his face, staring disbelievingly at the trio on the couch. Loki’s fingers stilled and Steve’s grip loosened allowing Tony to escape, cheeks red and eyes wet, his hair mussed beyond repair.

“Traitor.” He glared at Bruce, who was still leaning against the countertop, tears running down his own face from laughing so hard. Bruce simply waved the insult away, taking hold of the bags containing their dinner once more and carrying them over to the table, trying to suppress the bubbling laughter that still threatened to surface.

“Right, not gonna ask.” Sitting himself next to Steve, Sam nudged the blonde with his elbow until he moved over. “So, what we having?”

“I’ve got curried mutton, jerk chicken - three lots, they never send enough, there’s some fried plantain a half dozen types of patties, couple portions of goat in case anyone wants to try something new, there’s oxtail in here somewhere as well and a whole load of saltfish fritters.”

“Thanks, I love those.” Bruce was digging through another bag, trying to decipher the quickly scribbled pen marks on the top of the containers.

“Why do you think I ordered them?” Tony grinned back, fishing carton after carton out of the numerous bags on the table as Thor brought over extra plates. “I didn’t get any ackee because I didn’t know if anyone liked it.”

“Dude, how many people did you order for?” Sam laughed, grabbing one of the containers and spooning out a portion onto his plate. “Not complaining, but there’s enough food here to feed half of New York,”

“Enough, hopefully. Might need to order pizza in as well, if Goldilocks here decides he’s hungry.” It was a veritable feast, and Steve was determined to try a little bit of everything, piling his plate high and tucking in. He was starving, and though the conflict still warred within his mind, it was dulled by the cool press of Loki’s bare foot atop his own.

“I am not a child Captain, I am capable of feeding myself.” After the fourth time Steve had pushed something onto Loki’s plate that he thought the man might like, Loki had shifted away slightly, annoyance written across his features.

“I know, but just let me spoil you a little bit?” He looked so hopeful, blue eyes shining as he turned to look at Loki, expression soft and caring. Whatever irritation Loki might have felt at the perceived slight melted away and he huffed with a small smile of his own, leaning against Steve’s arm.

“Alright, but not over much. I fear I will get too used to this.” It was too comfortable, too nice sitting with the others, eating good food and joining in with the light-hearted banter. The tower was starting to feel something like home, and as much as that had terrified Loki for a while, he had grown used to the thought. He adored Steve, loved him even, and though things were still tense with many of those he crossed paths with, Loki knew he had been accepted at least by these small few and he was honoured to count them as his friends.

The flickering of lights was the only warning before the chaos started. Glass cracked and shattered inwards, the grinding and screaming of pipes as the metal warped within the walls and a lone figure, robed in black and red, appeared amidst the chaos. The grin that split his face was enough to send tendrils of fear down Steve’s spine, dragging Loki from the couch and trying to put himself between the blue-skinned, white-haired intruder and his lover.

Thor launched himself at the intruder with a snarl, Mjolnir raised high as Tony snapped on the bracelets he was never far from, calling the suit. The intruder locked eyes with Steve, grin widening further still. Steve barely heard Loki’s whisper, a name in his ear laced with fear and loathing as even as the room faded to nothing with a sickening jerk somewhere below Steve’s stomach as they were transported forcefully away.

“Malekith.”


	10. Trechery

“You escaped me before, Laufeyson, on Asgard when I should have taken your pretty little head. And again, when Amora’s vanity lost me my prize. Now, I find that you are all but useless to me, and how do you think I feel about knowing such a thing, hm?” The voice was muffled and unfamiliar, as though being filtered through water. Steve groaned slightly, head pounding as he forced himself awake, just barely aware of the hand gripping his still-bare foot hard enough to bruise and the crunch of bones as Loki cried out in pain. 

The sound came again, and again, along with the distinctly unpleasant sensation of fingers crawling over Steve’s skin. No matter how he tried, Steve could not move, magic binding his limbs and numbing his tongue, the tendrils of magic like barely visible hands upon his body. Loki cried out once more and grew still, panting heavily as the stranger backed off. “Your life is forfeit, now that you have proven yourself to be inadequate. I will very much enjoy breaking both you and your _pet_.” The last word was spat out and Steve caught barely a glimpse of white hair before the man was gone.

“Loki?” For a moment, Steve thought he might be sick, stomach heaving as his head span violently and he rolled over onto his side with a whimper, the cold stone floor like ice against his side.

“Hush love, do not move, the effects will wear off soon.” When Steve was finally able to force his eyes open, he frowned at the concerned, pale face hovering over his own. Loki looked drawn, the pained expression not quite leaving his features, and as Steve dragged him down to his chest he did not fight it.

“Where are we? What happened?” The floor felt as though it was tilting, and he half expected to roll with it, clinging to Loki like a lifeline. Loki himself had curled against him, forehead pressed up under Steve’s chin.

“I cannot say, somewhere far from New York judging from the chill in the air and the silence. I am also certain there is nowhere within the city with walls quite as thick as the ones presently surrounding us.” His voice was muffled slightly by the fabric of Steve’s tee, and as the Captain shifted Loki tensed, skin aching wherever Steve’s hands could not touch.

“You’d be surprised.” Forcing his eyes shut, Steve tried to quell the churning of his stomach, head spinning even in the semi-darkness behind his eyelids. “How’d we get here?”

“I believe that Malekith is responsible for our capture. Amora has not yet made herself known, and I did not sense her power before.”

“Malekith? The blue guy?” Steve asked quietly, recalling the strange features of their captor and the silken voice that had cut like blades.

“Malekith the Accursed, an enemy of Asgard and one of the Dark Elves and the one who-” Loki trailed off, pulling back slightly and Steve allowed one eye to open to look upon his lover’s face. A dark bruise marred one of his high cheekbones and he was trembling within Steve’s arms. “He is _unpleasant_ , shall we say. We are not the best of friends.” Steve hummed quietly in response, not prying, the violent nausea slowly filtering away.

“So he’s the one who’s working with Amora.” A lock of hair had fallen over Loki’s face, the usually slicked back tresses dislodged and mussed beyond repair. Reaching out, Steve tucked it back out of the way, noting how Loki pressed up against the touch and choosing to leave his hand there for the moment, cupping his lover’s face.

“It certainly appears to be the case.” Loki nodded slowly, meeting Steve’s gaze for only a moment before his eyes flicked away.

“What does he want with you?” Steve asked softly, studying Loki’s fleeting expressions. His stomach was still churning, though no longer with the after-effects of the spell, tension feeding into his limbs at the thought of what the curse was doing, of what the elf had originally planned for Loki, _his_ Loki. It made him want to break something.

“I am uncertain.” Loki admitted, lost to his own thoughts for a time. “From what he has said thus far, it does not appear that we were correct with our original assumptions. I am, apparently, useless to him now and I cannot even begin to comprehend what might have changed between then and now, save our bond and the passage of time.”

“Maybe it _is_ the bond? Does the spell only work once?”

“No, from what I could gather the potion can be applied as many times as necessary to get the desired result, though the one I was given certainly did differ from the original so I suppose in that sense it might be possible.” Adding aspects to spells and potions was a risky business, one that tended to cause problems if the caster was not fully aware of what they were doing. Single-use spells were rare but not entirely unheard of, so it was certainly a possibility.

“It might be that something about it can’t be repeated, and maybe it’s just too far gone?” He was clutching at straws, but Steve knew so little about magic - save what Loki had taught him - that anything seemed plausible. Applying scientific theory only worked some of the time, much to Tony’s annoyance and Bruce’s amusement, and Steve knew even less about that.

“Perhaps.” Loki reached up to rub at the bridge of his nose, the pounding headache behind his eyes too distracting for the conundrum he was trying to puzzle out and an odd sensation had settled itself within his belly. “Malekith is vain enough that his plan will come to light one way or another, our energies would be better spent finding a way out of this place.”

“I’m guessing that teleporting away is out of the question?” Steve asked quietly, hating how utterly useless he felt at that precise moment in time.

“I have tried, ever since I awoke here I have tried, but it appears something is dampening my magic and I am not certain as to what.” The frustration in Loki’s voice was evident, as was the concern in Steve’s. Both wished for the relative safety and warmth of the tower, Loki shivering slightly as the cold of the room began to sink into his bones.

“Do you think they’ve done something to you?”

“I do not know. My magic is still present, I can feel it, but it is weak and teleportation - particularly for the both of us - requires more than I have left.”

“Looks like we’ll have to find another way out, then.” Steve pushed himself to his feet, helping Loki up beside him, noting with some concern how the bones in the usually strong but slender hands of his lover seemed more pronounced than usual, their grip on his own far more delicate than it should have been. The bruises weren’t healing, and Loki looked exhausted.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway outside of their cell and a heavy key ground in the lock, creaking from too many years of disuse. Steve spun to face the door, dragging Loki behind himself and not missing how the god stumbled with a sharp intake of breath. They should have perhaps expected it, and maybe Steve had, but Loki could only stare as Amora stepped into the room. To the naked eye, she was her usual, regal self, but to one such as Loki who saw the world in more than a simple colour spectrum, she was lacking. The power, the magical energies she usually radiated, stripped back to less than half, and he wondered at that for a moment.

“Amora.” Steve ground out widening his stance as she stared him down, prepared to either attack or defend depending on what was necessary.

“Relax, dear Captain, I am not here to cause harm.” She raised her arms in a submissive gesture, something Steve had neither been expecting nor knew how to react to.

“Give me one good reason why I should believe you.” There was anger there still, cold and cutting as Steve was more than a little aware of the tremble in his lover’s fingers as he gripped them. It was Amora who had done this to Loki, who had forced them into this situation, and he could not help but hate her for it.

“Because you are still standing, are you not? You are well aware that I could cut you down in a heartbeat should I choose to.” There was no remorse there and he wished for nothing more than the opportunity to take her down, to wipe the cocky smirk from her red lips and leave her in one of the high security S.H.I.E.L.D facilities for superhumans.

“She is bluffing, Captain. Her present power is barely more than my own, she would not win.”

“Ever observant, darling Loki.” Amora sneered, though she seemed smaller somehow. “I come with a warning, and information.”

“Speak then, witch.” Loki snapped, leering at her over Steve’s shoulder, not entirely unaware as to how weak the gesture would appear.

“Malekith will not stop until he has what he desires, you must overcome him before he takes further action.” Amora’s expression shifted to match her voice, concern and urgency bleeding through with a sincerity that could be nothing but fake.

“Why are you telling us this?” Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Steve forced away the tendrils of a mind brushing against his own, well versed with Amora’s tricks. He rid himself of her presence with surprising ease, and wondered just what had happened to strip away her magic.

“Because I cannot stop him, and he holds my sister as a bargaining chip.” Her face contorted, and even in grief Steve could not help but find her alluring. “He also intends to slay Thor and I cannot...I should prefer him alive and in the bed of another, than dead. None of this is worth the price that I have paid, I have been such a fool.”

“Alright, let’s say we believe you.” The press of a slender body against his back made Steve straighten, squeezing Loki’s hand in reassurance. They could not be allowed to trust Amora, but at that point in time she was the only one who might be able to help and, as far as Steve was concerned, they had very little choice. “How are we supposed to defeat someone like him while locked in here, unarmed?”

“My intention is to send you back from whence you came, I have enough power still for that, though not for much longer if he continues to drain me thus.”

“He is taking your magic?” Loki’s eyes widened and he found that Amora would no longer meet their eyes. “How?”

“It is how I have come to be trapped here, though I cannot explain now, there is no time.” She looked stricken, glancing back over her shoulder as though afraid he might reappear at any moment. “You must break the curse and destroy him, but be swift! If he discovers my treachery I shall be slain, and he has an army mere days away.”

“But how? How do we break the curse?” The room had started to shift, and Steve pulled Loki to him, holding on tightly as Amora’s magic encircled them. It filled his senses, the sound of little ringing bells at the back of his mind with a scent that reminded him of freshly cut flowers. It was in stark contrast to the smell of light burning that had accompanied their initial kidnap, closer to the pleasant aroma of freshly mown grass that had started to accompany Loki of late.

“You must consummate the bond, and then you will be able to move freely.” The green tendrils of light wrapped around Steve’s mind, suffocating as he was yanked away. “Do this and the curse will run its course, freeing you both.” Amora’s voice barely carried after them as they were pulled through negative space, leaving the cell empty save for Amora herself.

“It is done.” She called over her shoulder, standing to her full height and regarding Malekith with a cool gaze as the air around the elf shimmered, revealing his hiding place. “They will follow my instructions and we will have what we need.”

“And you believe this will work? They are not as stupid as you might think, these mortals.” He frowned as the Enchantress pulled a vial of green liquid from the pouch at her waist, drinking it down in one, shivering slightly as her power returned.

“Oh, you would be surprised.” Amora grinned, all teeth and no mirth. “A mortal in love is a very foolish creature indeed.”


	11. Respite

A meeting had been called almost as soon as Steve and Loki returned to the tower, which was quickly vetoed by Bruce upon seeing the rapidly deteriorating state of Loki’s health. Even as they reached the meeting room door, they were whisked away down to the medical floor, much to Loki’s annoyance. His protests were half-hearted though, and that in itself was something to worry about; nothing about the god was ever half-hearted, and Steve was worried. Judging by the look on Bruce’s face as he hovered around Loki, the scientist was just as concerned, checking his eyes, his tongue, taking blood samples and checking over each and every one of the purpling bruise-like marks upon Loki’s skin.

“Okay, talk to me, what happened?” Nat was leaning against one of the benches, arms crossed over her chest and lips pursed, gaze flicking from Steve to Loki and then back again. Steve knew that look, and he did not like it, dread pooling in his stomach at the thought of having to explain what had transpired in the hours they were missing. It was late - or, rather, early - he was tired and his mind was a mess still hazy from lingering magic.

“It seems that we were correct in our assumption that Amora was not working alone.” Loki replied smoothly, his attention shifting only barely as a thick band was wrapped around his upper arm and inflated for a moment.

“So you know who’s funding her? Great, now we know what name to put on the party invites.” Tony called from the other end of the room, prodding at the graphs from earlier, an irritated grunt sounding as they did not give him the information that he wanted.

“His name is Malekith.” Opening his mouth obediently, Loki was prevented from continuing his explanation as Bruce pressed something small and metallic against the inside of his cheek, leaving it there as it beeped.

“The blue elf.” Natasha nodded; she had seen the footage of the attack, seen how Steve had grabbed Loki and then, without warning, both had vanished wearing twin looks of shock. Clint had, of course, insisted that the whole thing was Loki’s doing - no matter how much time passed, the archer was never going to forgive Loki for what had happened, and were she in the same situation Nat wasn’t certain she would be able to either.

“Yeah, not sure we should be inviting him around to one of your cocktail evenings, Tony. He’s more the turn-people-into-frogs type than a martini and coke kinda guy.” Steve wasn’t certain whether his attempt at humour had fallen flat or not; Nat cracked a small smile but her posture remained the same, and neither Bruce nor Loki seemed to be particularly listening. It did not help to shift his own tension, either.

“Hey, most people drink cocktails on my cocktail nights, rather than root beer. Next time, order a Screaming Orgasm and see where that gets you.” The tips of Steve’s ears turned pink and he shot Tony a look that was promptly ignored. “Or, wait no, a Slow Comfortable Screw Against The Wall.” Stark was grinning and even Natasha looked vaguely amused as the flush darkened against Steve’s cheeks. “Wait, hang on, people into frogs? He can do that?” Pushing his stool back, wheels carrying him a couple of feet, Tony turned his attention on Loki who merely shrugged, mouth still propped open and unable to speak for the moment.

“Let’s assume not for now.” Trying to get back on track, Steve turned his attention back to Nat, though the flush refused to vanish entirely. A fact which she, secretly, found really rather endearing, though it was neither the time nor the place to tease him about it.

“Where did you go, after he took you?” She was watching Steve intently, pointedly not looking at Loki as he was poked and prodded by Banner. She had not missed how Loki tensed, flinching away whenever Bruce touched bare skin, as though the contact burned.

“We don’t know.” Steve shot a look at Loki, steadfastly ignored as Bruce pulled the metal contraption free allowing Loki to flex his jaw. “Somewhere cold, I know that much, and it looked like a dungeon.”

“What, like ‘dungeons and dragons’ type dungeon?” They could practically hear Bruce’s internal groan as Tony opened his mouth, though Steve at least appreciated the interruption of Natasha’s questioning. He knew the reasons behind it, and she was being far gentler with them than she perhaps would have been with anyone else, but Steve was still trying to put the pieces together himself and he relished the break.

“There were no dragons.” Quieter than usual, too quiet for Loki, and that in itself was unnerving.

“No, it’s a...never mind.”

“And what happened then?” Nat was doing a good job of ignoring Tony’s interruptions, continuing smoothly as though nothing had happened.

“He did something to me, some kind of magic, it was-” Steve shuddered at the memory, corners of his mouth tipping downwards at the remembered cold hands upon his skin, fingers feeling real even through his clothing. “Unpleasant.”

“That is generally how most people describe Malekith.” Loki added, squeezing Steve’s hand. “The spell he wove upon you was to keep you compliant and, preferably, unconscious. He did not take into account the fact that you are no ordinary Midgardian, though, which is why you were able to awaken so swiftly.”

“I’m guessing it’s safe to assume these are his work?” Bruce pressed his thumb against a darker patch of bruising along Loki’s ribcage, earning a pained hiss.

“He is not particularly _fond_ of me, shall we say.” With a curt nod, Loki paused just long enough for Bruce to turn his attention away before yanking his shirt back down to cover his too-pronounced rib cage. “The beating I received is no worse than I have had before, there is no need to worry. I will heal within a few hours.”

“It’s already been a few hours.” Steve murmured into his ear, his concern evident. “Even on me, most of those would have healed up by now, and you heal faster than I do. What did he do, before I woke up?”

“I believe the curse may be affecting my abilities somewhat, which is why my magic is so weak at present. Do not fret so, he did nothing to me that was not delivered by a boot or a fist.” Loki could not help himself, leaning over to steal a quick, chaste kiss from the Captain and earning a quirk of the eyebrow from the Spider. Neither Banner nor Stark batted an eyelid at it, which he supposed was to be expected considering what they had already witnessed. Ordinarily he would have saved such shows of affection for their private moments, but he needed it, needed the touch of lips to his own, and it still wasn’t quite enough to calm the screaming of his skin.

“So you’re whisked off to parts unknown by a potential threat, who uses magic to subdue Steve and beats the ever living hell outta Loki.” Tony gave up on his charts, sliding over to sit next to Natasha, clearly unhappy about the whole thing. “How’d you get out of that one?”

“Amora.” Steve admitted, expression dark as he warred with the conflicting opinions within himself about the Enchantress. Loki hissed through clenched teeth beside him, his own opinion of the woman fairly evident. “She...insinuated that she was being held there against her will and forced to work for Malekith. She also stated that he had her sister captive.”

“And you believe her?” Natasha asked, her tone flat.

“Not in the slightest, but she did send us home.” It wasn’t much of an argument, but then Steve had never meant it to be. A less forgiving man would desire to see her burn for what she had done to Loki.

“So what’s she after?” Tone musing, as though trying to answer the question herself, Natasha tapped at her chin with a slender finger. They were missing something, all of them, and she could not help but feel that the answer should have made itself evident by that point. Amora was devious, but she was too proud, and her plans often came to light long before she carried them out. Her prideful nature would, in the end, be her undoing, and yet this had been going on for what felt like an age and they were still no closer to figuring it out.

“No idea. I don’t see what she could get out of setting us free and giving us information about the curse.”

“Wait, backpedal for a bit - what information? You did not mention anything about information.” Interest regained, Tony dropped the tablet he was holding and wheeled closer. His attention shifted from Steve to Loki, curiosity at the point of near-excitement and evident in his posture.

“She implied that she wanted us to take down Malekith, and that to do so we’d have to break the curse.” Loki replied, leaning into Steve as Bruce backed off to study the readings he had just taken, comparing them to the ones from the previous afternoon. “It would be fairly impractical, fighting an enemy so powerful while partly incapacitated and entirely distracted.”

“I don’t suppose she gave you any idea how to actually break it?”

“Well, actually…” Steve trailed off, looking to Loki for help. His lover was too busy staring down at his own bare feet, leaning into Steve. “She, ah, she might have said that the way to break it is to…” Swallowing against his own embarrassment, Steve continued, beet-red and unable to meet any of their eyes. “Consummate it.”

“You have to have sex.” It wasn’t a question, Natasha’s voice entirely deadpan and somehow that made it sound far worse.

“That’s...pretty much it, yeah.” Nodding his agreement, Steve kept his gaze away from Natasha’s own, not wishing to see the expression on her face. He had known her long enough that he could picture the disapproval without having to look.

“And she didn’t say anything else?”

“No, she seemed too...I don’t know, distracted? She looked terrified, to be honest. Wanted to get us out of there before Malekith got back.” He frowned at that, playing the scene over and over in his mind, hoping he had not missed anything, any small detail that might reveal if she had been speaking the truth or if the whole thing was another trap. Steve found nothing, though. She was either a very good little actress, or the fear was genuine, and even his gut would not tell him which.

“Do you think she could have been faking it? Trying to earn your trust?” It was a possibility, they all knew. More than a possibility, truthfully. Amora was known for her powers of deception, and for her abilities in seducing both men and women, having them bend to her will with barely a thought. It made little sense that she would not have done so with Steve; he was mortal, with none of the magical resistance of an Asgardian, she would not have had to work overly hard to take control.

“I don’t know.” Steve replied honestly, running a hand down his face, beyond tired. “I think there’s as much chance that she was as that she wasn’t. She seemed genuinely distressed that Malekith plans on killing Thor.”

“She is in love with him, or thinks she is. That, though, makes her no more trustworthy. We would be fools to take her word as truth.” Loki was leaning bodily against him, breathing harsh and Steve could feel the tremors that wracked his body.

“Loki?” Reaching up, Steve gently gripped Loki’s chin, nudging just enough to get the god to look up at him, sucking in a breath at the sight of the man. Loki was far paler than usual, sunken eyes near-black and with a sheen of sweat covering his skin. As he watched, blotches of purple began to travel up Loki’s slender neck and over his jaw. 

It hurt. The pain was like lances of ice and heat beneath his skin, as though someone were slowly peeling it away from his body. The ache that he had carried for weeks wherever Steve’s hands or arms or chest did not touch had bloomed into something raw and agonising. Loki had tried to ignore it, pushing it down and away as something to deal with later, hoping that they would find their answer before it grew too much to bear, but it seemed that was not to be. 

The advancement of the pain had, and he would never mention this to Steve for fear of the look of self-hatred the Captain would wear should he find out, increased exponentially since their encounter a scant six hours earlier. He knew the truth of Amora’s words, and yet also the danger there; he had no idea what would happen once they completed the joining, only that it would allow the spell to run its course. Death, perhaps. Or worse.

“It appears, Captain, that we are out of time.” His look was one of agony, and as another tremor overtook him Loki was barely able to bite back the whimper that threatened to escape from his lips. The bruise-like marks continued to multiply, blooming over Loki’s skin in a seemingly random pattern. The hand that had held his chin slid around, cupping Loki’s cheek as Steve’s expression shifted to one of terror.

“No, that’s-” Beneath his fingers, the purple marks fled, revealing Loki’s overly pale colouring. Steve ran his hand down the side of Loki’s neck, watching the spots vanish, only to reappear again moments later wherever he was not touching. Mind made up, Steve slid from the cot, dragging Loki to his chest to carry him from the room.

“Steve, we have to talk about this. If you do as she said, it might make things worse.” Natasha called after him, taken aback when he span on his heel in the doorway, the look he gave her one of cold fury.

“Really? Because I’m not sure I can think of anything worse than this.” As if to punctuate his statement, Loki cried out, curling against Steve’s chest as the simple touch of hands under his shirt was no longer enough to keep the agony at bay.

“I can.” She replied, though he was too far gone to hear her, door swinging shut behind him. She stood for a moment, frown tugging at her mouth, concern evident not only for her friend, but for Loki as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You should probably visit my tumblr;
> 
> http://syrum.tumblr.com/


	12. Joining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The start of this chapter made me very uncomfortable, and I think you'll see what I mean if you read it. Highly dubcon, and they love each other so much that it hurts!
> 
> Pure sex; I wanted to keep this separate from the rest of the story in case anyone wants to skip it. Not because sex, but because dubcon.

“Steve, please.” Loki’s whimpered cry tugged at Steve’s heart, fingers fumbling over one another as he struggled to unfasten the buttons of Loki’s borrowed shirt, eventually giving up and simply tearing the thing off him. The cool slide of sheets beneath his back was bliss on Loki’s fevered skin, some of the pain fleeing as Steve was upon him, bare chest pressed against his own in an attempt to relieve some of the burning agony. “We cannot do this, I have no idea what might happen, you could endanger yourself and I cannot allow that.”

“We have to.” The look upon Steve’s face was pure torture, voice wavering as he stared into pained green eyes. “What other choice do we have? I can’t lose you, Loki. And I can’t stand to watch you suffer like this any longer.” He was tugging at Loki’s pants, the fabric sliding down over slender hips, leaving him bare. “Whatever happens after this, it’s my fault. Blame me. But please, let me save you?”

“None of this is your fault.” With a pained sob, Loki pulled Steve to him, clinging on as another pained shudder traveled through his body. It felt as though his life force was being sucked away, and Loki did wonder for a moment whether perhaps the curse was killing him, choosing not to linger upon it as Steve shifted to divest himself of his own jeans. “No matter what happens, it is not your fault.”

“I need you to say that you want this.” Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat, everything within him fighting against the pull of his body.

“You know that I do.” Another small whimper, and Loki found himself pressing up against the Captain, the odd mixture of intense pain and the stirrings of pleasure disconcerting. “I am broken, Captain. This curse has taken me apart and I find that I am now _lacking_. I don’t simply want this, I _need_ it.” Strong fingers wrapped around the pulsing length between his thighs, drawing a strangled cry from Loki’s throat as they pulled up.

“I don’t really know what I’m doing, I don’t want to hurt you.” His nervousness was palpable as Steve fought back his own arousal, struggling to keep control as Loki writhed and moaned beneath him.

“You won’t.” Barely able to form words, Loki thrust up into those too-gentle fingers, body demanding more even as he struggled to keep hold of his own mind. Steve pushed down against him then, loosening his grip so that he might press his own shaft against Loki’s, hand wrapping around both as they moved together. Gentle whines and pleas filled the air, Steve burying his face in Loki’s shoulder as weakened fingers gripped at his bare back. It would not be enough, but it might buy him enough time and mental clarity for what he knew he had to do, and Steve held himself back until Loki spilled over his hand with a sharp cry, following soon after.

“Steve-” Cutting him off with a kiss, Steve used the corner of a blanket to wipe away the mess on Loki’s stomach and his own fist. Pulling back, he let his eyes roam over Loki’s form, flushed and looking utterly debauched. He was still pale, and the purple marks remained even if they had retreated somewhat, but there was more life in those stunning green eyes and he no longer trembled from the pain. “That will not be enough, I still feel it.”

“I know, but has it at least helped?” The hope in his eyes was almost painful to see, and Loki nuzzled at the hand that cupped his cheek before surging up to steal another long, slow kiss.

“Yes, for now.” Loki finally murmured, small smile playing on his kiss-swollen lips. He was beautiful, Steve thought, and oh how he wished they could simply curl up together for the remainder of the night.

“Good, because I’m going to need time to prepare you and I can’t do that if you’re hurting.”

“I thought said that you didn’t know what you were doing?” The amusement in Loki’s reply was painfully evident, and he let the corners of his lips quirk up at the Captain.

“I don’t, not really.” Steve flushed, feeling strangely out of place. “I’ve never done it before, but I did some reading, online, and figured you probably know more than me anyway.” He paused for a moment, pondering, chewing on his lower lip until Loki threw him a frustrated noise. “Sorry, I just...would it work, the other way around?”

“Perhaps.” Loki allowed a lazy smile to stretch across his face, fingers trailing up Steve’s arm, loving the flush that coloured his Captain’s cheeks. “Though I ask that you make me yours first. I ache for this, and I do not know how much longer I can wait.”

“Oh.” The sound came out breathy and with just the hint of arousal, sending a shiver down Loki’s spine. “I need something, um-”

“Sit back and watch.” The small laugh that bubbled from Loki’s chest hid the spike of pain that started in his shoulder and began, slowly, to spread. “I have enough magic left for this.” Pushing Steve away, he planted his feet upon the bed and spread his legs, leaving himself open for the Captain who simply stared, awestruck. A slick hand slipped down, behind, sliding between his ass cheeks and leaving a shimmering trail wherever it touched. He pressed against his own entrance, eyes fixed on Steve. It was fascinating and a little humbling, he thought as he pushed one finger past the tight ring of muscle, seeing that look of reverence on his lover’s face.

“Loki-” Steve’s voice caught in his throat, and Loki did not miss the way his eyes dilated as a second digit was added. Loki loosed an experimental moan, Steve’s hands tightening upon his knees and the blonde jerking forward a short way at the sound. Pumping his fingers in and out a few times, Loki added a third, his body heating up in a way he knew meant he hadn’t much time.

“Come here.” Hand sliding free with a quiet squelch, Loki could not contain the shudder that ran through him as he felt suddenly and rather unpleasantly empty. He pulled at the Captain’s shoulder with his clean hand, dragging him in for a slow kiss as his palm wrapped around Steve’s shaft, hard and leaking, covering it with the conjured slick. Spreading his legs further still, guiding Steve into place, Loki sucked in a breath as the blunt tip of Steve’s cock pressed against his entrance. He let it push slowly past the ring of muscle, moaning low into Steve’s mouth as the head popped into place.

“Fuck.” Loki was fairly certain it was the first time he had ever heard the Captain swear, though he was too far gone to truly appreciate the moment. “You feel good, Loki, so good.” Steve’s head had ducked down to rest against the side of Loki’s face, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the god’s cheek and jaw as he pushed forward, achingly slowly. It was almost _too_ slow, and Loki let out a low whine, tugging at Steve’s shoulders and back, the lubricant on his fingers and palm making it somewhat trickier to find purchase. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Steve was fully seated, breathing laboured and face pressed into Loki’s neck. He was trembling, and Loki realised with a jolt that it was taking everything Steve had not to simply give in to the desire of the curse and pound him into the mattress.

“I am ready, you can move.” He had meant for it to sound reassuring, but the words came out as more of a plea. Loki’s insides ached already, the stretch around the Captain’s impressively-sized manhood too much for what little he had prepared himself. It wasn’t enough, but it was better than nothing, and he could handle the ache in the morning.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Steve’s whimper had his attention immediately, and Loki let his clean hand slide up to bury itself in Steve’s hair, blond tresses tangling around his fingers as he scratched gently at his lover’s scalp.

“I trust you.” It took a lot for Loki to say those words, and while he had spoken similar to Steve before he had never outright stated as such. Trust was a very difficult thing for Loki, after what had transpired between himself and every other person he had ever put his trust in. After Asgard. But this was Steve, and Loki knew his faith was not misplaced, which was what made the accompanying words easier. “I love you.”

Steve did move then, pulling out and pushing back in with shallow, gentle thrusts that allowed Loki to relax around the thick shaft that was splitting him open. With a low whine, Loki wrapped his long, slender legs around Steve’s waist, pressing his heels into the Captain’s lower back, urging him to move faster or at least harder. It hurt, but the pain was delicious.

“I can’t-” Steve sucked in a choking gasp, swallowing thickly as he fought against himself. “Loki, _I don’t want to hurt you_.” He was repeating himself, but Steve did not care, his mind hazy and overtaken with a desperate need that he could no longer fight. Pulling out almost entirely, he slammed back into Loki’s willing body, earning a high-pitched whine from the trickster god, which soon degraded into near-constant moans.

“Harder!” Barely able to form coherent words, Loki could only cling onto Steve’s strong form, fingers knitting into the curves of his back and holding tight. Hands, tight enough to leave bruises upon his hips, held him in place on the bed to stop Loki’s head from impacting on the headboard from the force of Steve’s thrusts. “Please, harder! Don’t stop!” Not that Steve would have been able to, even if he had wanted to, jaw unhinged as he took his pleasure from the slighter man, Loki’s wails of need only serving to enhance the desire coursing through his veins.

“Loki.” Steve panted, repeating his lover’s name like a mantra. His thrusts were growing increasingly more erratic, completion near, even as Loki felt the pooling of heat in his belly that meant he would not have long himself. With a short, sharp yell, Loki spilled over the edge, streams of white covering his chest and stomach as he jerked and twisted, stars exploding behind his eyes. He gasped wordlessly, legs squeezing tightly around Steve’s middle, pulling him in as far as he could to ride out his orgasm. The press of Loki’s inner walls pulsated against Steve’s shaft, almost painfully tight, and it was all Steve could do to bury himself in Loki’s body as he came, spilling his essence within his lover with a low moan. He shuddered, hips snapping forward in short, sharp thrusts, pushing his seed in further still as he was spent.

Steve’s arms shook with the effort of keeping himself upright, breaths ragged as he slowly came down from his high. Shifting slightly, Steve’s softening cock slipped out of Loki’s body, earning a small whimper of loss and a shudder as he was suddenly left feeling empty. Not wishing to crush Loki beneath him, Steve collapsed on his side with a grunt, bed bouncing a little. They lay there, for a while, breathing gradually returning to normal as their heartbeats slowed. After a time, Loki turned his attention to the Captain at his side, his breathing seeming to catch as he noticed for the first time the look of absolute reverence on Steve’s face. With a small smile that might have been almost shy, he rolled onto his side, shifting so that he could curl himself against his lover, head tucked neatly beneath Steve’s chin. Strong arms enveloped him, and Loki let himself be held, allowing himself a hidden moment of weakness.

“That was incredible.” The murmur above his head was still breathy, and held a note of absolute awe. “It wasn’t...too much?”

“You have treated me to some of the best sex of my life, and still you ask after my wellbeing?” Loki chuckled, pressing closer still, ignoring the warm trickle down his inner thigh and the ache of his lower back. “You are a gift, Steve Rogers, and I should not be entirely adverse to waking up with you in the morning, so that we might have a repeat performance.” He hummed, comfortable and warm, sleep encroaching on his mind. “And every morning hence, if you will have me.”

“Always.” Steve mumbled, growing silent, nails scratching gently at Loki’s scalp. He waited until Loki’s breathing had evened out before pulling back just a short way, his fingers playing with the long, dark strands of his lover’s hair, mentally mapping out every curve, every line of Loki’s peaceful, sleeping face, committing it to memory even as he, too, began to drift off, a soft smile upon his features.


	13. Holding On

“Is it over?” The first thing that Steve was aware of was the invasive beeping and bright light filtering through his eyelids. Voices murmuring, sounding so close and yet so far away. He groaned, attempting to turn, his side feeling strangely vacant as he reached out for Loki and instead hit metal. Steve’s eyes flew open in an instant, sitting up near-violently, the clatter of machinery and the tug against his skin letting him know that he had been hooked up to to whatever was beeping incessantly in his ear.

“Easy, Cap. You’re good. You’re safe.” A gentle hand on his shoulder and Steve almost threw it off, heart hammering in his chest as he tried to work out where he was. Clint stared down at him, concerned, though it took a little too long for Steve to recognise his face. “Gave us quite the scare there, glad to have you back.”

“What happened? Where’s Loki?” Steve’s voice sounded thick, heavy with sleep and his throat and tongue dry, working harder than was normal to make any kind of sound at all. Clint pressed a cup into his hand and helped him drink, the water cooling on his chapped lips.

“Funny story, really. Well, not so much funny as completely and utterly fucking _terrifying_ for the rest of us.” The bed at his feet dipped and Tony grinned over at him, looking more than a little relieved and still extremely shaken. “Really thought we’d lost you there at one point.”

“Where. Is. Loki.” Steve tried again, grinding out the words even as he attempted to quell the panic rising in his chest. What had happened? He could not remember anything past their night together. Nothing _felt_ out of the ordinary, aside from the ache that seemed to spread from head to toe, right down to his fingertips, and the sheer exhaustion that had overtaken him. There was no actual pain anywhere, the after-effects that might have lingered after a fight or attack entirely missing. It was closer to the sensation of being awake for too long.

“Relax, he’s right here.” Clint moved out of the way so that Steve could see Nat, her smile strained, pulling back a curtain that divided the room. The bed had clearly been hidden from sight with a purpose, and Steve wasn’t certain that the prone form upon the bed was the entire reason. Thor sat guard over his brother, eyes red and puffy and would not look up to meet Steve’s gaze. Loki wasn’t moving, was barely breathing, his skin a sicky pallor and dark hair limp against the pillows. A breathing mask had been placed over his mouth, and if Steve thought he himself had been hooked up to a lot of machines, it was nothing in comparison to the ones surrounding his lover. 

“Loki, is he-?”

“He’s not doing so good, Cap. We were hoping you might know why.” Even Clint looked concerned, though his eyes were hard and jaw set. That was something for Steve to decipher later, he thought, his attention shifting back to Loki.

“Where’s Bruce? Or, any doctor, why isn’t anyone _doing_ anything?” Steve could feel his control slipping away, heart hammering in his chest as the panic and, ultimately, anger began to surge within him. He glanced from one Tony to Nat and then to Clint. Nat was the only one who met his eyes.

“Bruce has done all he can, Steve. No one else knows as much about Loki’s physiology now as he does.” Tony had shifted and was eyeing him warily. Not that Steve could blame him, he could only imagine the expression on his own face, the wild fear that had started to take control.

“Well where _is_ he?”

“Cap, he’s been working non-stop since we found you. Guy hasn’t slept! He passed out maybe an hour before you woke up, but trust me when I say he’s been doing all he can.”

“Oh.” Guilt gnawed at Steve’s chest, and he tangled his fingers together to keep them still, trying to force control over himself. Silence blanketed the room, broken only by their breathing and the beeping of the equipment keeping Loki alive. Steve’s mind was a strange combination of racing at a mile a minute and feeling painfully sluggish. Minutes passed before a thought finally occurred to him, his head snapping up and attention focussed wholly on Thor. “Asgard-”

“Will not help.” Thor sounded like a broken man, finally looking up to meet Steve’s gaze, the agony in his eyes sending another stab of pain through Steve’s chest. “I have already tried. Father will hear none of it, he wishes-” Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Thor looked away again then, his own guilt and shame fairly evident. “He wishes that Loki be allowed to die.”

Steve felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. He knew of Loki’s tenuous relationship with the man who had raised him, knew that Loki had been adopted though he had never pushed for the details, but for Odin to simply abandon his son so close to death? Not even willing to see Loki as he lay dying? There was no room left for anger, only a gaping maw that ached with such a ferocity that Steve would have preferred a physical injury.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Nat nudged Tony out of the way, sitting herself beside Steve and resting a comforting hand upon his leg, breaking him from his self-destructive musings. Steve did not have to think long about his answer, light flush colouring his cheeks at the memory of the previous night.

“We broke the spell, I think.” Steve replied quietly, the hand upon his knee tightening slightly through the covers. “I remember falling asleep, that’s it.” Loki had been beside him then, breathing already levelling out in sleep, and Steve had run soft fingers through Loki’s hair even as he himself began to drift off. He had felt whole, sated, the moment had been utterly perfect.

“That was a week and a half ago.” Natasha spoke gently, and while Steve did not turn to look at her she did not miss how his eyes widened and his breath caught.

“A week and-” Steve swallowed, finally dragging his gaze away from Loki’s prone form. The god looked close to death, and Steve was barely managing to suppress his panic. “How is that even possible? What in the hell happened?”

“We don’t know.” She replied smoothly, holding the Captain’s gaze. “After the...incident, in the lab, we left you both alone to work things out.” It was hardly an ‘incident’ Steve thought, wincing a little at the memory of his parting words to her and the harsh tone he had not been able to suppress. “I didn’t think much of it when you didn’t appear for breakfast, but when it got to lunch time and neither one of you had so much as stirred, we started to get a little concerned.”

“Not like you to miss training, Cap, even with him in tow.” Clint added, making his way over to the window to stare out over the city, shoulders tense.

“I got JARVIS to do a scan, he reported your life signs were dangerously low.” Tony wasn’t looking at him, staring into the corner as though it held something fascinating. “We didn’t think you’d make it. Either of you.” He paused for a moment, looking down, his voice strained. “Loki flat-lined twice.”

“How, but...he’s a god, he’s Immortal, how could something like _this_ -” Ignoring the concerned protests around him, Steve tore the wires from his body, ignoring the pain as he stood from the bed, stumbling over to Loki and almost falling if not for Nat’s quick reflexes in dragging him back to his feet.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed yet.” She chastised gently, but did nothing to try to stop him, helping Steve over to the deathly still form of his lover. Reaching out with trembling fingers, only partly from the weakness of his limbs, Steve pressed his palm against Loki’s cheek, feeling the cold smoothness of his skin against the overly-hot clamminess of his own hand.

“Loki, please?” A whine, desperate, his pleas falling on deaf ears as Loki slept on. Steve could feel the blood pulsing below Loki’s cheek, too slow and sluggish to be normal, barely pondering the strange sensation of not just feeling but _knowing_ Loki’s life force, weak and struggling, holding on only by a thread. Loki was dying and Steve could feel it, his essence slipping away with each passing moment. “I can’t lose you, not now.” His voice was barely above a whisper, tears prickling at Steve’s eyes as he leaned bodily against the bed, careful not to place too much of his weight on the weakened god. Slamming his eyes shut, Steve dipped his head until his forehead rested against Loki’s shoulder. Taking a shuddering breath, Steve did the only thing he could truly think to do; he prayed. He wasn’t even certain which god he was praying to, if any at all, pouring everything he had into simply _willing_ Loki to remain with him, to keep breathing.

Steve wasn’t certain how long he remained like that, all but clinging onto the man he loved, exhausted and broken. He did not notice the first tiny movements, the drag of fingers against crisp, white sheets. It was not until Loki’s chest expanded, dragging in a breath that his weakened lungs should not have been capable of, that Steve finally looked up. Blue eyes met green and they simply stared at each other for a moment, blood racing in Steve’s ears to drown out the mutterings of those around them. His head ached, his eyes stung, and as Loki smiled down at him Steve’s body went limp, sliding from the bed and hitting the floor with a barely-felt thump.


	14. Beyond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Yeah sure, why the hell not?
> 
> A lot of things are explained in this chapter, and a whole lot more aren't.

Gentle fingers were threading through his hair, the steady murmur of a heartbeat beneath his ear and Steve was certain that he could feel a soft breeze against his skin. As he inhaled, he noticed the scent of freshly cut grass and something sharper, like disinfectant. His body felt heavy but his mind felt light, as though it was not really attached to him any longer and could flit away without warning. A solid weight pressed down against his lower body, though he could not work out precisely which part, his thigh he thought but it was hard to think and he felt distant from it. He could feel an arm wrapped around his waist, holding him gently yet not squeezing. There was a clarity to it, and to the hand in his hair and chest to his back, that everything else lacked, and if not for the oddly ethereal sensation of not being quite there, he might find that curious.

“Captain Rogers, can you hear me?” The voice that called to him had an unearthly quality about it, light and airy but with a certain note of command that he simply could not ignore. “You need to open your eyes, we have much to discuss.” It took quite some effort, but Steve managed to follow that voice, to push through until he found he was standing in a large garden, surrounded by flowers he did not recognise. Steve’s immediate thought was to try to find something he might use to sketch them down, their beauty out of this world and he wished something to remember them by. He raised a hand to rub at his head, pressing against the sensation that still remained, of fingers that played with his blonde strands. It was odd, standing there entirely untouched and yet somehow feeling as though he was being held within the embrace of a lover. “Captain Rogers.” A voice behind him drew his attention and Steve turned, finding himself standing before a lady dressed in blue silks.

“Ma’am?” Steve dipped his head respectfully to the lady as she rose from the stone bench she had been occupying. Her hair was of a sandy blonde and piled upon her head, leaving some loose strands to cascade down her back. She was older than he but also ageless, beautiful but with a power about her that he could feel rather than see.

“I am pleased to finally meet with you, Captain Rogers of Midgard.” She inclined her own chin in greeting, a soft smile upon her features as she extended her arm. Steve took her hand on reflex, bending to kiss it before standing back to his full height. She did not withdraw, though, instead moving so that she might link her arm with his. “Might we walk for a bit? I should love to show you the rest of my garden.”

“Of course.” Steve followed her lead, their steps slow and he took in the beauty of the gardens as they walked. None of the plants looked familiar, the trees carrying leaves in colours that should not have been possible. Birds twittered overhead, the only sound save the gentle swish of the wind through the plants and their feet upon the path. “Forgive my rudeness, but would I be right in assuming that we’re not on Earth- on Midgard, any more?”

“You are quite astute, dear Captain.” The woman laughed, sound bright and clear as a bell, and her face shifted momentarily to one of delight. “This is - or, rather, was - Asgard.”

“Was?” He frowned at her, and she patted his arm with her free hand, pausing to watch a bright green and yellow insect fly by, similar to a butterfly but with eight sparkling wings. Steve stood with her, watching, curiosity warring with concern as he wished to explore her beautiful garden while also drawing as much information from her as possible. She seemed to know so much, he would be a fool not to listen to what she had to say.

“This little spot of paradise no longer exists, I’m afraid.” She sighed, sadness creeping into her voice. “It ceased to be when the elves invaded some time hence.”

“Malekith?” Steve questioned, though he already knew the answer from the expression upon her face. “This is why Loki hates him, because he invaded his home?”

“That, and other reasons. No matter what Loki may say, he considered Asgard his home up until that point.” She tugged on his arm, and he found that they were walking again, trees overhead offering dappled shade from the pleasant warmth of the sun. “Malekith has caused much suffering, and continues to do so. I had thought him slain, but still he lives on, and for as long as he does Loki is not safe.”

“Do you know? About what happened, with the curse, I mean.” He might have blushed, except that Steve felt she _did_ know and was not judging him for it.

“I know some, but not all. I know Malekith is allied with Amora of her own free will, I know that she deduced the potion and he created it. I know that whatever they plot, it is together, and as such they must be cut down together.” They had reached a large tree, slender but strong and with a swing seat wide enough for three hanging from one of the lower boughs. Golden flowers covered the branches and silver leaves littered the floor at its base. His guide led him to the seat, sitting herself down and waiting, expecting him to join her, which he did. “I know that you stopped their plan from taking form, and that you wound up bound to Loki as a result. I know of the pain he has suffered, the pain you still feel now in your heart, but you must not blame yourself Captain. You did what was necessary, and you have saved his life, but the war is not over yet.”

“Do you know what they wanted with him?” Steve asked softly, watching a small rodent scurry past, seemingly uninterested in their presence.

“What do all with power desire? More power. They saw Loki as a means to get it, and both meant to betray the other to keep it all for themselves. Even amongst the Aesir, Loki held an strength near unheard of. Not physical, but his magical prowess was entirely unmatched by all save a few. He has power that even he does not know, does not understand, and I fear that I have not taught him enough for him to ever be able to wield it.”

“I don’t understand. If all they wanted was his magic, why not just keep it when Amora took it the first time?” 

“Because what she took was only the essence of his magic.” She explained, drawing power from within herself to gather at her fingertips. It shimmered, bright and golden with just the hint of purple laced through it. “Do you see? Without it, Loki cannot tap into the power he holds within himself, but it holds no true power itself. Magic cannot simply be taken away, it is not so easy.”

“Does Loki know that?” Steve recalled the tale Loki had told, of being stripped of his magic, weak and vulnerable. He had not lied, Steve knew that much.

“As like not, and I doubt Amora did either. All she knew was that in such a form, she could not hope to wield it. So few now understand the source of magic, and it weakens with every generation. I fear we of Asgard shall lose our power shortly, if none seek to rekindle the old ways, but that is not something for you to concern yourself with, Captain Rogers.”

“Please, call me Steve.” He smiled up at her, and she returned his expression, gazing at him with a fondness that should only come with familiarity.

“Steve, then. I am Frigga, and I am afraid our time here grows short.” Her smile faded and was replaced with an intensity that was near unnerving. “Listen well, Steve Rogers, for the lives of you, Loki and all of your friends depend upon the choices you make from here on in. The curse may have been broken, but you are now eternally linked with Loki. Were you to die, he too will perish. Malekith seeks to slay him; he is angry that Loki has slipped from his grasp once more and you _must not_ allow that to happen.” As Steve sat, listening, the air around him began to shimmer, the beautiful flowers he had longed to sketch fading into an encroaching fog. “Malekith _must_ fail, Loki _must_ live, else you will die and Midgard will perish.”

“I won’t let anything happen to Loki.” Steve replied, eyes flashing and jaw set. “I’ll find some way to protect him, I swear it.” Frigga smiled then, reaching up to gently brush her fingers across his cheek. Her scent was of the autumn, of fallen leaves and the decline of summer, no less beautiful but with a sorrow to it. She reminded him, in that instant, of his mother and he felt a pang of loss within his chest.

“He loves you dearly, with all of his heart. Do not ever doubt that, Steve. You will ever be stronger together than you are apart.” Frigga’s sadness was palpable, though she spoke with a smile, and he wondered who she had lost to be left with such sorrow.

“And I love him.” The certainty with which Steve replied surprised even him. The strange sensation of being held seemed to shift, the arm around his middle tightening only slightly. The wind whispered past his ear, carrying a voice of yearning with it, the words lost but the meaning clear.

“You have strength you cannot yet hope to know. Listen to Loki, trust Thor, and you will triumph. A gift for you, in parting.” Taking his hand, she turned it palm up, pressing a delicate finger against the skin on the inside of his wrist. The spot felt almost impossibly warm for a moment, the slight itch of magic etching into his skin. “It is not much, but I do hope that when the time is right you will use it.” When she pulled back, he glanced down at the small yet perfectly formed flower that seemed to have bloomed from his veins. It looked almost like it belonged there, as though he was born with it. “Steve,” She spoke, her voice sad. “It is time for you to wake up.” When Steve finally looked up, Frigga was gone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did manage to get this one finished after all! It's not as long as I would have liked, but I wanted more Thor interaction so...

When Steve awoke, it was with the sensation of having been somewhere entirely different for quite some time. His dream - though it felt too real to be truly a dream - remained steadfast in his memory, not trailing off into nothing as he had expected it might. Fingers carded through his hair, physical now rather than the not-quite sensation of his dream, and when he shifted the arm about his waist tightened. Blinking sleep-heavy eyes open, Steve found that the weight on his leg was Thor, snoring quietly, his head using Steve’s thigh as a pillow.

“He has watched over you since you fell.” Voice quiet, hoping not to wake his brother, Loki nuzzled at the top of Steve’s head. “And from what the good doctor has said, he did the same for me also. Foolish oaf, even he cannot hope to go without sleep for so long.” There was a fondness to his voice, and as Steve shifted so that he could turn his head to look upon his lover, Loki dipped down to kiss him softly.

“How long was I out?” Steve asked, still groggy, leaning back against Loki. It seemed an odd position to wake up in, propped up partly on the man he was bound to and with the god of thunder asleep on his leg, but it was not unpleasant.

“Not as long this time; three days.” There was the creak of a chair and Bruce stepped around the curtain, his smile tired and shoulders hunched. “Welcome back.”

“Has it truly only been three days? It felt longer.” Loki mused, refusing to release his hold on Steve even as Bruce began checking him over.

“Agreed. With your constant complaining, it’s felt like at least a week.” Bruce grinned good-naturedly at Loki, who snorted and Steve could feel his smile against his hair.

“So was this just a relapse, or…” Trailing off, Steve remained still as Bruce took a sample of his blood, wondering just how much of the stuff had been lost to testing over the past few weeks.

“No, this was something else.” Pulling the needle free and turning so that he might store the sample, Bruce busied himself with the IV drip at Steve’s side. “Your blood sugar dropped dramatically and we detected massively increased levels of melatonin. Other than that, there was no real change, so we hooked you up to a drip and let your body recover naturally. It’s the strangest thing, though.” Steve did not interrupt, letting the doctor talk though he did not fully understand what he was being told. “We’ve been actively monitoring your blood work, and your levels weren’t stabilising as quickly as they should. Not just for you, but for any normal person. I had Doctor Cho watch the video of your collapse and she had an idea; what if all of this was linked? I mean, I’d thought about it, but scientifically and medically it didn’t make much sense.”

“Does any of this make sense, scientifically speaking?” He asked, with a quirk of his eyebrow and the beginnings of a smile playing upon his lips. Steve already knew the answer, but it did not stop him from asking the question, knowing just how much the past few months had both bothered and fascinated Bruce.

“Well no, not really.” Bruce replied, looking amused. “She suggested placing you next to Loki and having him hold your hand, as you had been for him. I wasn’t expecting anything from it, but it _worked_. Almost as soon as we moved you, the levels started to stabilise. That was just over twelve hours ago, and here we are now.”

“Does that make any sense to you?” Steve twisted to look up at Loki, wondering just how much of this fit in with his dream. He wanted to speak with Loki of it, but was not sure where he should start.

“Perfect sense. We are still linked, you and I, though to what purpose I know not. All I know is that when I was near lost to life, you pulled me back. It was your voice I followed, your touch that carried me from death.” 

“Okay, that made even _less_ sense than what Bruce said. How?”

“Because you willed it. It seems, dear Captain, that you have abilities we were not aware of.” Steve was reminded of the woman in his dream, _‘you have strength that you cannot yet hope to know’_. Was this what she had meant? He rubbed at his wrist, the memory playing through his mind. “Steve, what is this?” His motion must have caught Loki’s attention, slender fingers reaching out to grip his right arm, pulling it up so that he could better look at the mark there.

“Oh.” Steve breathed, surprised, staring at the bloom on his arm, noting the slight golden colouring of the flower. It seemed to shimmer and move, as though in a breeze, though the motion was near imperceptible. “It was real, then.”

“How do you have this?” Loki asked, a small frown playing on his features.

“You have a tattoo?” Bruce asked, leaning over to look at the small, flat image. It was pale, he thought, of a light brown that might as well have not been there. Nothing special, and certainly not what he expected to see on the arm of Captain America. “Pretty. Not technically correct, but pretty. Artistic, I guess you’d say.”

“You are wrong, doctor. It is most certainly ‘correct’.” With a mumble of something Steve could not catch, Loki ran his thumb over the mark, the sensation of something unusual and warm spreading through him and making Steve shiver slightly. The mark glowed for a moment and seemed to shift position, before growing still. “When did this happen?”

“I thought it was just a dream.” Steve replied, feeling almost embarrassed that he had not mentioned it sooner.

“Dreams do not leave a physical reminder of themselves.” Loki shifted, ensuring that Steve was nestled between his legs, before kicking out and catching Thor in the ribs with the heel of his foot. “Wake up you great oaf, you have slept long enough.” Thor grunted but scarcely moved at the impact, and Steve had a feeling he was used to it. One blue eye blinked open, then the other, squinting in the harsh light of the medical wing as he yawned, wide and loud. Noticing Steve staring at him, Thor pushed himself up and grinned, wide and bright.

“Thank the Norns, you are awake my friend. You had us worried.” Before he could react, Steve was pulled into a tight bear hug, ending up with a face full of blonde hair and squashed uncomfortably tightly against a chest broader than his own. “How do you feel? Are you well?”

“Well enough for now, Thor. Thank you.” Thor released him, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief as he was finally able to both see and breathe again. The Asgardian meant well, of course, but he was still overbearing at times and would often forget his own strength.

“Look.” Loki demanded impatiently, displaying Steve’s wrist for Thor to inspect. “Look at this and tell me what it is.”

“It is a flower.” The confusion that Steve felt was as clear in Thor’s eyes as he knew it would be in his own, though as the thunder god looked closer his eyes widened and he gently took hold of Steve’s wrist himself, taking it from Loki. Steve had the vague impression of being a specimen for study, and it made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. “It appears to be the bloom of the eithril tree, though I do not believe they have those here on Midgard.”

“No,” Loki agreed, lips pursed. “They do not. Steven, pray tell how you got this? You mentioned a dream?”

“It was just before I woke up here.” Steve replied, focus switching from Loki to Thor and back again, both listening intently. “I dreamt that I was in a garden. It was beautiful, like nothing I’ve ever seen, I don’t think I could describe it to you if I tried. There was a woman there, and we spoke. She knew about the curse, and about Malekith and Amora.”

“What did she say?” There was a distinct curiosity to Thor’s voice, and something else besides, though Steve could not quite place it.

“That they both intend to stab the other in the back, Amora isn’t to be trusted and we can’t let either of them win.” 

“That sounds fairly accurate.” Loki nodded in agreement as Thor settled himself back in the chair he had occupied before. “What else?”

“She talked about both of you, said that I needed to trust you and listen to you.” He remembered her words, so confident in how Loki felt for him and Steve swallowed, pushing the thought to the back of his mind so that he might not embarrass himself in front of either Bruce or Thor. Squeezing Loki’s arm, he continued. “I asked her about what Malekith had intended when he had Amora give you the potion. She said that they wanted your power for themselves. I don’t fully understand, but I think they were going to drain your magic and I get the impression that you probably wouldn’t have lived through it if they’d managed to.”

“There are a number of ways to drain a sorcerer of his magic, and some do result in the death of the poor wretch in question, though I am aware of no spell that would allow the direct transference of magic from one to another. Are you quite certain this is what you were told?” There was a prickle of something at the back of his neck, and Steve reached up to rub at it, the sensation of a fourth pair of eyes too distinct for a moment, watching him. The feeling passed quickly, though, and he chose not to dwell on it for the time being, putting it down to his imagination and the remaining haze of sleep that was slowly filtering away.

“Yes.” Steve replied firmly, jaw set. “She was very clear about it.”

“Then it seems I have yet another reason to thank you for my continued existence. Did you know she had given you this?” Loki’s fingers were trailing over the bloom again, and this time it appeared silver to Steve’s eyes, as the leaves of the tree he had sat beneath had appeared.

“Yeah, she said it was a gift? I don’t know what it’s for, but she said that she hoped I’d use it.” Whatever ‘using it’ meant. Steve had no idea what it did, never mind how or when he should use it. Frigga had clearly thought him cleverer than he truly was, or assumed Loki would know enough to fill in the blanks, because to Steve all it looked like was a pretty little tattoo. A tattoo that moved, admittedly, but a tattoo never the less.

“The magic within it is very old, and very powerful.” Loki hummed, and the flower seemed to react to his touch, moving as though the petals were fluttering in a breeze. “I know not, yet, what it does, but it will not seek to harm you, of that I am certain.”

“Who was it?” Thor interjected quietly, staring down at his clasped hands, expression pinched. “With whom did you speak?”

“Thor-”

“No, brother, I have to know. A name, my friend, did she give you a name?” Still not looking at him, Thor sat entirely motionless and Steve could feel the tension radiating off him.

“She introduced herself as Frigga.” Thor sucked in a breath, hands tightening around one another until his knuckles went white, entirely still in his seat for a long moment as Loki’s arms wrapped protectively around Steve’s torso.

“I am sorry, Steven, I will speak with you again later.” Without warning, Thor stood from his chair, knocking it over in his haste to leave the room. His eyes were wet and his jaw trembled as he fled, mind a chaotic jumble of half-formed thoughts.

“Did I say something wrong?” Turning so that he was on his side, still propped against Loki’s chest, Steve noted with concern the slight shimmer in his lover’s own eyes, something that Loki might have been able to hide from anyone else, just not from Steve.

“No, you did not. It has simply been a very long two weeks for him, and he has slept little. Knowing that mother found some way, somehow, to speak with you was simply too much for him.” Loki was stroking his hair again, and Steve let his head drop down to the slender yet firm chest of the trickster god, feeling the steady thump of his heart. “He misses her terribly, and nothing anyone can do will ever erase that pain.” Steve had known that their mother had died, only perhaps a year ago, and the pain must still be very raw. It was clear that Loki felt her loss more, even, than Thor, yet he never spoke of her or how she had died and Steve would never ask. Knowing that the woman he had spoken with was the self same woman who raised both his lover and his friend, and who no longer drew breath, left a slightly hollow feeling in his chest and he wondered if, perhaps, that would be the only time he would get to see her.


	16. Reprieve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, something adorable to break up the angst and heartbreak of the rest of the story! A bit of info and lots of fluff, please enjoy :3

“It will not change simply because you continue to stare at it.” Loki’s amused tone broke through Steve’s concentration, and he jumped a little as his lover took a seat beside him on the couch, taking the offered coffee mug from Loki’s hands and wrapping his fingers around it. He was still cold from his morning run - something he had sorely missed in the time he had been bound physically to the other - and the heat from the drink slowly started to warm his frigid fingers.

“See, that’s pretty much what Bruce said as well, but it _does_ change.” With a small frown, Steve shifted the mug to his left hand, taking a sip and holding his right wrist out for Loki to see. “I tried to show him, but all he can see is a flat, brown flower. I swear, if you couldn’t see it too, he’d have me committed.”

“And what is it that you can see?” Curiosity getting the better of him, Loki placed his own mug down on the coffee table, freeing up both hands so that he might cradle Steve’s wrist between them.

“Sometimes it’s silver, or gold, and there are times when I catch a glimpse of it out the corner of my eye and it looks like it’s growing out of my skin, but it’s never flat, and it’s never brown.” Staring down at the mark, he watched as Loki’s thumb brushed over it and the flower quivered, fluttering under the light touch. “And it moves when you do that.” Loki’s eyes snapped up to meet his, the intensity of his gaze somewhat unnerving and frighteningly unusual.

“You can see it move?” Loki asked, openly surprised, though perhaps he should not have been. The Captain had been continually surprising him since their fateful encounter. It felt like eons had passed since that day, and much had changed, though Loki found he regretted none of it.

“Well yeah, can’t you?”

“I can, but you should not be able to. Of those in this building, only Thor and myself should be able to see anything other than what the dear Doctor can.” He paused, canting his head to the side slightly, lips pursing slightly as they often did when he found something of interest to ponder upon. “Though you were able to draw me back from the pull of death, which you also should not have been able to do. It is highly likely that the two are linked.”

“Is that why Bruce can’t see it?”

“Indeed. Because the mark is of magical origin and is apparently designed to be as subtle as possible, those lacking magic should not see anything abnormal about it. I believe our link may have rubbed off somewhat on you, transferring a little of my own power into you.” It shouldn’t have been possible, and yet the pull had been unmistakable, like a lasso around his soul, dragging him back and feeding _life_ into his frail body. “Is that all that is bothering you or is there yet more?”

“It’s not _bothering_ me, not really. It’s interesting, and I’d love to know what it’s for and why I can make it do this.” Brow furrowing, Steve focussed on the mark on his wrist, feeling the way it twitched beneath his skin. He pushed against it, mentally picking out the outline and focusing on expanding it. He did not really know what he was doing, or if he even should, but the warming tingle in his arm was pleasant and it had not yet caused him any harm. As he watched, a thin trail of silver and green spread across his wrist, reaching almost all the way around to the other side of his wrist, thicker where it was closer to the bloom. Loki was entirely still beside him, and Steve did not want to lose concentration by glancing up to see the expression upon his face, wondering quite how far he could push it.

“Enough.” The command was quiet, accompanied by a slight squeeze to his hand as leaves began to sprout from the vine. “That’s enough now, pull it back.” It was less of a pull and more like releasing a stretched elastic band as Steve lost concentration and the extension of the mark snapped back, disappearing from sight behind the bloom once more with a slight sting.

“It seems like every time I do that, I can get it to grow a little bit more.” Steve mused, finally switching his attention to Loki who was still staring with rapt attention at the mark, his face unreadable. “You know, it makes me nervous when you do that.”

“Do what?” He replied noncommittally, feigning innocence. He ran his fingers over the brand, watching the petals flutter and wondering on it for a moment. That Frigga had thought to weave it into Steve’s skin at all was something of a mystery, as were many of the things she did. He did not wish to ponder too long on the implications of her visiting Steve after her death; to return from the dead was nigh on impossible, with only a few exceptions, and they would not allow her to leave the halls of Valhalla to simply visit a mortal in his dreams. No, this was something she had planned before her death, which meant that she had foreseen what might happen with the curse and had known that Steve would be involved. It also meant that she had likely known the time and circumstance of her death, and that thought left him cold.

“When you’re so focussed and yet I have no idea what you’re thinking.” It was, Loki thought, for the best that he kept his thoughts to himself. Steve had enough to concern himself with, and had spent entirely too long concerned over Loki’s wellbeing. Knowing the stress that he himself had already caused for the man did not sit well with the trickster god, and so he remained silent on the matter. He had some idea what the mark might do, and the fact that Steve was able to expand it past the small, dormant flower only served to reaffirm his suspicions.

“You wish to always know what I am thinking?” He asked quietly, and there was a touch of uncertainty in Loki’s voice and an edge of defensiveness about it.

“Only when it concerns me.” Steve grinned, gently nudging the trickster god with his shoulder and earning a low chuckle in return, pulling Loki from the gathering dark cloud with such ease it should not have been possible.

“Ah, but I have some thoughts I would rather not share.” Loki smirked, deftly avoiding the unasked question and raising his eyebrow suggestively.

“Okay, now _those_ thoughts I want to know for sure!” Steve laughed, placing his half-empty mug down beside Loki’s full one and shifting so that he could pull the other man against him, leaning back against the arm. “It’s only fair, since you seem to know what I’m thinking most of the time.”

“An educated guess, my love, nothing more.” With a low chuckle, Loki moved to stretch himself out over the couch, sliding himself down his lover’s chest, his head ending up in Steve’s lap as he stared up at the Captain. “Despite what you may think I am not able to read your thoughts.”

“More’s the pity, I have a few thoughts I’d like to share.” The low purr of Steve’s voice was unexpected, and Loki released a delighted laugh as he shifted on the cushions at his back.

“Are you attempting to seduce me, Captain?” 

“I don’t know, is it working?”

“Oh yes.” A lazy grin spread across Loki’s face, hand reaching up to trail gentle fingers down Steve’s cheek before he let it fall back to his chest. “I believe it may well be.”

“You know, I’m not sure I like this position.” Steve frowned, nose wrinkling slightly as he stared down at his lover. “I can’t kiss you when you’re like this.”

“You wish to kiss me?” Loki asked, tone tinged with mischief as he stubbornly remained where he was.

“I spend most of my time awake wanting to kiss you, and half of the time when I’m asleep too.” With a chuckle, Steve began carding his fingers through his lover’s hair, inky strands slipping easily between the calloused digits, soft and loose without the usual style in place. He preferred it like this, certainly; it gave Loki a much more innocent appearance, and the god couldn’t complain that he had messed up his hair if it was already falling about his ears.

“Why Captain, anyone would think you had grown quite attached to me.” Feigning surprise, Loki earned a roll of the eyes and another chuckle from his lover, the hand in his hair tightening enough to tug gently.

“I guess ‘attached’ is one way of putting it, yeah.” There was a light flush covering the Captain’s cheeks, and Loki had to admit it had piqued his curiosity. Steve was typically quite a shy lover it seemed, even more so when others were present to witness any affection between the two of them, though not once had he pulled back or tried to hide what they had. Except, they were entirely alone, and Loki had done nothing to warrant such a response. The blush was uncalled for, and that meant whatever had flustered the Captain was entirely in his head.

“And how would you choose to put it?” Loki replied smoothly, gaze flickering between Steve’s eyes and mouth, watching as the corner of those perfect lips twitched slightly, in amusement or something else Loki wasn’t certain.

“You mean you haven’t figured it out?” He was stalling, or asking Loki to fill in the blanks for him, not wishing to vocalise the thoughts spilling openly through his head for no reason other than an immense fear of potentially embarrassing himself in front of the god. It wasn’t going to happen, though, and he knew it; Steve needed to speak the words he had known and kept silent for entirely too long, not just for himself but for Loki as well.

“Please, do enlighten me.” The confident drawl did nothing to alleviate the nervousness that Steve was attempting somewhat unsuccessfully to hide. Loki looked so beautiful, sprawled across his lap, it was almost enough to make him trip over his words. Almost.

“I love you.” Steve replied, tone softening and his heart skipped a beat when Loki’s eyes widened. “I am so stupid in love with you that it hurts. You’re the reason I get up in the morning, and why I’m happy to go to bed at night because I know you’re there with me. I want to hold you, to protect you, and I’ve never been as utterly terrified as I was when I thought I might lose you. I will move heaven and earth if it means I can stay by your side. I love you, Loki, more than I have _ever_ loved anyone before.” He stopped, finally, heart hammering in his chest as Loki merely remained still and _stared_ at him, eyes like saucers and mouth slightly agape, for a beat too long.

“Oh.” Came the quiet reply, finally, and Loki was truly lost for words. “Oh, I see.” He paused, then, and later he would berate himself for not simply using the obvious answer of ‘I love you too’ like any normal, _mortal_ person would. Instead, Loki twisted until he was up on his knees, sparing not a second before he bore down upon his lover, lips mashing and tongues twisting together until Steve was groaning beneath him. Loki shifted so that he might straddle the broader man, hands moving from their vice-grip of Steve’s shoulders until they were looped around his neck, one curling up to bury slender fingers in blonde tresses. He felt the slide of rough fingers against his back, slipping up under his shirt to tug him closer and Loki sighed into the kiss.

“Boys, please, you’re sickeningly adorable I’m sure but the communal living area is _not_ the best place for couch sex.” So absorbed in each other, neither Loki nor Steve had realised they were being watched, and as Loki pulled back enough that he could turn to glare at the intruder, he found himself face to face with three people he had hoped not to see that morning, or at least not for a good while longer. Natasha looked highly amused, arms crossed over her chest and wearing a shirt that was most certainly not her own, still as lovely as ever despite the early hour.

“It is if I get to watch.” Tony grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at the pair. Steve, already flushed, simply buried his head in Loki’s shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his lover’s waist.

“Ugh, it is way too early in the morning to deal with this shit.” Clint groused, stomping past them like a bear with a sore head to get to the kitchen.

“Oh no, no you don’t Clint Barton, do _not_ touch that coffee pot until I get there!” Natasha was quick to follow, jaw set in annoyance, Clint’s habit of drinking directly from the pot not something that she could abide at the best of times, and certainly not before she had brewed her own drink. Tony followed with a laugh, throwing Steve and Loki a wink as he passed, and Steve wasn’t certain if the billionaire had been entirely joking or not.


	17. Not What it Seems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for me to stop playing with this and actually POST it.
> 
> Sorry for the delay. I can't seem to make myself happy with this chapter.

“So what now?” Fury sat across from Steve, arms folded over his chest, single good eye fixed, unwavering, upon the Captain’s face. “You’ve broken the spell, he’s free, and yet I find Loki’s still hanging around the Avengers like some,” He waved one hand in the air vaguely for a moment, looking for the right turn of phrase that might not offend too badly, before settling on his original statement anyway. “Homicidal puppy.”

“With all due respect, sir, the ‘homicidal’ part left with the tesseract, which I am led to believe you already knew.” The slight dip of his head was as close to an agreement as Steve was going to get, and he took it happily. 

“Regardless, we cannot have the enemy of mankind seen to be hanging around with its saviours. It’s bad press, and that’s something we could do without right now, after what Stark and Banner managed in Texas last month.” Steve winced; that had been a bad one. He had, of course, been forced to sit it out and things had gotten horribly out of hand almost as soon as they had landed. Tony still wouldn’t talk about what had happened, though Steve knew enough from the report to get a general idea of the chaos they had - apparently accidentally - caused.

“Director, you have some of the best spin doctors in the business working for you. If they can’t figure out a way to turn Loki’s presence into a positive and garner public support then I will eat my shield.”

“Careful, Rogers. The SHIELD dental plan doesn’t cover self-inflicted loss of teeth by vibranium.” Fury looked at least somewhat amused, and Steve relaxed in his seat, knowing that the Director wasn’t entirely happy with their present circumstances, but that he wasn’t about to force Steve’s hand either. He was somewhat surprised that Fury had requested the meeting, not because the subject matter wasn’t one that needed discussing, but because he was fully expecting the man to demand for the entirety of the team to be present when the decision was made. Not that he thought the others would turn against him, and by extension Loki, but he was pleased that the Director at least wanted to hear his thoughts on the matter. That he had chosen to travel to the Avengers tower, rather than demanding Steve’s presence at one of the SHIELD facilities, was telling in itself.

“I think you already know where I stand on the issue, sir. My feelings for Loki aren’t exactly a well kept secret, and now that the curse has been lifted I know my emotions are my own.” A fact that Steve spent most of his time being secretly thankful for, though there were still some days that he doubted whether their present relationship would have happened at all without Amora’s interference. Loki assured him that his own feelings had been present for long enough that the curse had done little more than strengthen them, and that all her meddling had done was to force his hand. Still, the doubt lingered.

“Are you saying you’re in love with the guy?” It didn’t, to Steve at least, sound so much like Fury was questioning it as much as he was reaffirming what he thought he already knew. Which, knowing Nick Fury, was not likely to be too far from the truth.

“Completely head over heels, sir.” Steve replied, as matter of fact as he could, and anyone else might have found his response amusing.

“Good, we can probably use that. The American public _does_ love a good romance, after all. Maybe feed them a few stories about Loki saving a school bus full of kids or something.” Leaning back in his seat, the Director steepled his fingers, elbows resting on the arms of his chair.

“He won’t want to be an Avenger, just so you know.”

“Doesn’t have to be. The guy’s dating Captain America, as long as he’s seen doing good he can stay as an ‘outside consultant’ or whatever they decide to use. That’s probably better, actually; make the public think he’s still being considered as a possible threat, so we can cut him loose if needed.” Fury must have noticed the look on Steve’s face, because he raised a placating hand to try to calm him. “Look, I’m not saying that’s what we’re doing, but we can’t just expect the world to go from wanting to hang the guy to accepting him, that’s not how it works. We drip feed them the information we want them to hear, and use outside sources to ‘leak’ extra bits to corroborate what we’re saying. It’s about all that’s going to work if we don’t want a full-scale riot on our hands.”

“He’s not going to turn on us, I can vouch for that.” Steve replied, his ingrained stubbornness showing through in the set of his jaw and the determination burning in his eyes. It was the same stubbornness that made him an excellent Captain, though the higher-ups spent much of their time lamenting its presence.

“Yeah I figured you’d say something like that. Can’t say I trust him yet but he seems different. It’s on your head, though, if he does cause any trouble.”

“He won’t, don’t worry.” Fury did worry, though. Not just for the chaos that Loki might cause were he to return to his former self, but for the pain and heartache he would cause to the team who had started to trust him - some more so than others - and, in particular, the Captain sat across the desk from him.

“It’s my job to worry. You focus on saving the world and not getting your ass killed, I’ll focus on worrying about what your ex-supervillain boyfriend is getting up to under Stark’s roof.” The mischievous quirk of Steve’s lips said all it needed to. “Rogers…” Fury all but groaned, and Steve had to laugh, even as his cheeks coloured. “He’s rubbing off on you. Still, it’s good that you’re happy. Hopefully this’ll keep your therapist off my back; she’s been complaining that you-” The room seemed to rock, half-full water jug on the desk falling to the floor with a crash and shattering into a thousand pieces, cutting Fury off. 

“Avengers, we have a situation- oh, oh _shit!_ ” Tony’s voice sounded over the intercom system that kicked in if ever JARVIS was out of action or if Tony chose to take control, he sounded out of breath and a little pained. A second explosion sounded, and Steve was already out of his seat, eyes wide as he made his way first to the door, to check that there was no immediate threat present that might harm the Director, and then the window, in case whatever was happening had impacted on life outside of the tower as well.

“Stark, report! What’s happening out there?” Fury all but bellowed, singular eye fixed on the speaker in the ceiling as though it might hold the answers he seeked.

“Not good, really not good.” He was running, breathing heavy, the sounds of fighting carrying through the speakers, and then another explosion. “Shit, if I die tell Bruce-”

“Tell him yourself, you ridiculous mortal, I am not your messenger boy.” Loki’s voice joined Tony, and Steve all but breathed a sigh of relief at the haughty and slightly offended tone of his lover.

“Okay, never mind. Cap? Your boyfriend is a life saver. Quite literally, actually. I’m in the basement lab, looks like he’s got the place shielded off somehow, I got Tash and Clint here with me and he’s vanished on us again, might be heading up your way.”

“I’m glad you’re safe, what’s going on out there?” Steve asked, slipping easily into the role of Captain America, taking charge of the situation and trying to work out what their next move should be. The enemy was an unknown, and they were down two of their heavy hitters, but they did have Loki and they knew the layout of the tower far better than their attackers would, which gave them a distinct advantage.

“Not entirely sure, but looks like a whole damn army’s attacking us. Bunch of guys in freaky armour with space-guns.” Which narrowed it down to precisely every other intelligent race in the universe, Steve thought with an internalised groan that he could see Fury shared.

“How many?”

“Don’t know, I saw maybe ten, but that’s just me. If they’ve got groups going after all of us, we’re probably screwed.”

“I counted twelve.” Nat interjected, and a low, pained hiss from Tony made him wonder what she was doing to the man.

“Six.” Clint added, further away and sounding exhausted. “Tony’s been hit, and I don’t know how much use we’ll be against those things. I think you’re on your own, Cap, sorry.”

“You guys are such optimists.” Steve felt as though he was being pulled slightly, the telltale sign of Loki’s presence, the god shimmering into being at his side a moment later.

“Loki.” Steve breathed a sigh of relief, reaching out for his lover. “Any idea what’s happening?”

“It appears that we are under attack. Malekith has clearly decided he no longer wishes to wait, and the wards I had placed around the tower to keep him out seem to have failed.” Despite his apparently calm exterior, Steve could see the concern in his eyes, the way they flashed as he glanced around the room, his own concern for Steve’s safety evident.

“Why not just steal you from under our noses, like he did last time?” Fury asked, voice pinched, and Steve wondered at precisely when the Director had pulled his gun.

“I do not know. Amora returning us here must have been part of his plan, I can only assume that he has some other goal aside from our capture. He revels in chaos, you see, I would not put it past him to desire the deaths of those who have sheltered me out of pure spite.”

“So how do we fight him?” The sound of rending metal a few floors above them drew their attention, and Steve was starting to wonder just how structurally sound the tower might be after a prolonged magical assault. It was no use winning the battle if the whole building were to fall down upon their heads, crushing them.

“We? Director, with all due respect, you do not fight him at all. I will take you somewhere safe and you will remain until I have resolved the issue. It was of my doing, by being here at all.”

“Bullshit. You’re under Avengers and SHIELD protection, which makes this personal.” It was at least a little reassuring for Steve, hearing Fury so openly willing to include Loki in their number, even if he could not do so publicly. 

“The sentiment is appreciated, certainly. Unnecessary, but appreciated.” Taking hold of Fury’s arm, Loki vanished only a moment later, reappearing once more at Steve’s side without the Director in tow. “You will not allow me to lock you away safely with the others, will you?” He asked gently, cupping Steve’s cheeks with both hands, his expression soft.

“While you’re out fighting the bad guys? Nope, not going to happen.” Their kiss was sweet, but brief, and when Steve opened his eyes they were back in his quarters.

“Dress quickly then, my Captain. They will not give us the luxury of time and are not far now from this floor.” Loki released the loose grip upon Steve’s cheeks, stepping back to give his lover space to move. He considered their position; no time, no reinforcements and with his magic still scarcely half what he was used to, it was not looking good. Relying too much on his natural abilities would be a foolish move considering, so Loki reached out to pull the long-handled blade he favoured to him. He may not need it, but it was better to be prepared.

“Any idea how many there are?” Steve asked, stripping off quickly as he strode across the bedroom, pulling the uniform from his wardrobe and stepping into it.

“I believe upwards of sixty, though I may be mistaken. They are moving in groups, killing anyone they find. I have removed all staff I could locate from the building, they should be safe. The Spider, Hawk, the Director and Stark are all in the lowest room, which I have sealed so none save myself may enter or leave, however Sam and Thor have not yet returned and I cannot reach either of them.” He had tried a locator spell for his brother, and it had come up blank, meaning that wherever Thor was he could not be reached even by magical means. Sam he had tried the Midgardian method of calling his phone, and when the Falcon had not picked up he had left an overly calm message explaining the present situation in as few words as was possible.

“Good, that means they’re safe at least. Could probably do with Thor right now though, not sure how much of a dent the two of us will make on sixty elves armed to the teeth.” Steve tried to keep his tone upbeat, but he was understandably concerned. It was not often that the Avengers were left so fragmented. The enemy was directly on their doorstep, and he had no team to lead, which meant there was no room for error.

“Hopefully enough that they will signal a retreat, and there are more than simply two of us. Banner is remaining hidden for the moment, I wish to use the Hulk as something of a-” Loki paused for a moment, wicked smile curving his lips. “A _surprise_ for our _guests_. He will attack only when needed, or when discovered.”

“Twenty each?” Finally dressed, Steve slotted his shield onto his arm and pressed his earpiece into place, turning to face his lover with a grin. “Those odds sound a bit better. I almost feel sorry for them, shall we?” Offering his free arm, Steve stole another quick kiss before Loki teleported them right into the thick of it, the pair of them taking down a squadron of four elves with very little effort. Six more quickly converged on them, and were just as easily dispatched, Steve working primarily as defence to keep the enemy’s attacks from hitting their mark, his shield working well to deflect the energy blasts, while Loki lashed out, power fizzling and crackling in the air around them.

Once the battlefield was silent, Loki found himself back to back with his lover, barely out of breath and certainly not feeling as though he had taken down an entire squadron of elves. “I do not like this, Captain; they should not fall so easily, this feels-”

“Like a trap?” Steve finished for him, earning a low hum of agreement in return. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

“Then do we avoid it or spring it?” Loki mused, more to himself than to Steve.

“Not sure we have much choice.” Steve switched his attention to the earpiece he had pressed into place before they left his room. “Tony, you got eyes on our location?”

“Yeah, I see you Cap. I’ve got limited sights on the other floors, but looks like they’ve found Banner too; Hulk’s come out to play and he’s wrecking my mini bar!” 

“What else can you tell me?” He felt at least a little guilty, not having procured an earpiece for Loki’s use as well; typically they only used them out in the field, but they worked just as well for communicating in the tower when needed. He hadn’t needed to for a while - not, in fact, since one of Tony’s experiments had fried the grid for half the city, and taken out their backup generator as well, leaving only the most vital systems online. He hadn’t needed to find one for Loki to use, hadn’t even thought about it until that point.

“Looks like they know you’re there - you’ve got a whole bunch of ‘em heading your way. Hope you’re ready to party because I don’t think they’re going to give you much choice.” 

“Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. This whole thing feels wrong and I want to know what’s coming before it gets here.”

“Anything suspicious, other than the army of space-elves attacking my tower? Right, got it.” Steve rolled his eyes and raised his shield, the sound of booted footsteps approaching en masse warning him that they were about to have visitors. They took down the new arrivals as easily as they had the others, and as each one fell Steve’s nerves frayed further. He could not shake the feeling of someone _watching_ him, hadn’t been able to since that morning in fact, and he did not like it. After only minutes, they stood surrounded by the bodies of armoured elves and Steve knew what they had just accomplished should have been impossible, and yet they remained unharmed.

“This is not right, not at all.” He could feel Loki at his back, vibrating with tension, neither one willing to drop their guard despite the lack of a visible threat and the silence that had descended. “I do not understand, if this was a trick or a trap, why not spring it? Why send in dozens of soldiers to fall before us?”

“We’re being watched.” Steve murmured under his breath, just loud enough for Loki to hear.

“By who?”

“No idea, but I can feel it and I don’t think it’s my imagination.” The prickle at the back of his neck seemed to intensify, as though someone was regarding him closely for a moment, and then it was gone. For the first time that day, Steve felt as though he was able to breathe, dropping the arm holding his shield and turning to face his lover. “Whoever it was, they’re gone now.”

“Malekith, perhaps. I find it odd that he would not be at the head of his army, emphatic as he is.”

“Or Amora? She seems the type to lurk in the shadows and watch.”

“I would not put it past her. Still, what is their purpose?”

“I don’t know, it really doesn’t make sense.” Steve watched as Loki crouched by one of the still bodies at his feet, pulling the mask free to see the face of their attackers, hissing slightly in surprise. “What is it?”

“These are not elves.”

“What are they, then?” Steve asked, curious, glancing between Loki and the three possible entry and exit routes, keeping his eyes open for any further attackers.

“Constructs. Artificial beings given an artificial life to follow a singular purpose, and once that purpose is fulfilled they cease to be, leaving shells behind. They are weak, but have no will of their own which makes them useful for many things. Usually they are used as messengers, or emissaries, where the caster wishes to be present at a meeting but cannot be for whatever reason.” Loki held his hand over the thing, letting a small pulse of magic flow through his fingers and into the still form before him. He had hoped that whoever had sent the army might have left something behind, some clue as to their purpose, or at least proof that Malekith was to blame. Still, this did not feel like his work, too subtle for one so brash and vain, too much effort and something simply did not add up.

“So Malekith _made_ these things?” Steve asked, surprised. He had not until that moment noticed that none of the fallen soldiers appeared to be breathing, and could not have said if they were prior to the fight or not. As Loki stepped back, he finally spared a glance for the unmasked creature, stomach twisting unpleasantly at the blank features that stared back. It had eyes, but they appeared to be little more than an afterthought, and the rest of its face was no more than a vague impression of an unfinished nose and mouth. It was disturbing to look upon, and Steve felt a bit sick, turning away quickly.

“They are unpleasant to look upon, I am sorry my love.” Loki slid the mask back in place, hiding the creature’s face once more before moving to stand. “We should check that no others remain, and ensure that the good doctor has not perished while we were gone.”

“He won’t have, though we might not have much of the tower left if we let him run around unchecked for much longer. We could split up? I’ll take the upper floors and Bruce, you take the lower ones and we meet in the middle?”

“As efficient as that may be, I do not feel much like letting you out of my sights at present. If someone or something is watching you, I should prefer that it reveal itself when I am at your side, not while I am several floors away.”

“That makes sense, I suppose.” Steve nodded, a little surprised when Loki took hold of his free hand, lacing their fingers together. “It’s strange, though - I didn’t feel animosity from it, more like a curiosity. It’s the same feeling I get from Bruce when he’s engrossed in one of their experiments.”

“Which makes it no less dangerous, my love. You are mortal, and a most fascinating and unusual one at that. Many beings - Malekith included - would see you as little more than a test subject.” They moved from floor to floor, and while Steve kept his grip loose in case he needed to pull away should more enemies appear, Loki held on tightly. Something was bothering him, Steve knew, but it was neither the time nor the place to ask.


	18. Aftermath

The gathering around the conference table was somber, silence falling over the gathered Avengers as they stared up at the projection on the wall. Steve kept his eyes on his lap, the faces of the creatures too disturbing for his liking - he had seen them once, he did not need to see them again. Loki sat to his left, his own gaze on the images and yet his mind was elsewhere. Steve could feel how his lover fidgeted every few seconds, not enough for anyone to notice but he had spent too much time around the god not to miss the small movements.

“So what you’re saying is, despite half of my tower being destroyed and sixty four of these...whatever they are winding up dead, not one person actually died?” Tony glanced around the room, taking in the faces of everyone present. He had been wounded quite badly in the fight, unarmed and unable to call his suit, the burns covering most of his right arm and part of his chest. They were healing, but it was likely he would be left with extensive scarring and his motor skills in that limb hadn’t fully returned. “That’s good though, isn’t it?”

“Normally, yes.” Natasha replied from her seat at Loki’s left, her hands clasped on the table in front of her. “Except, I was in the lobby when those things attacked. I saw them take down two guards and the mail guy. I know death when I see it, and those men were very much dead.” Her expression remained calm but her tone was grim; she did not need to go into detail, they had all seen how much of a mess those weapons had made of Tony’s arm from a simple glancing blow - it was lucky the man hadn’t lost it entirely and there was still the chance of that happening if it did not begin to heal soon.

“I was also unable to stop the slaughter of at least five of your employees.” Loki added quietly, though he did not turn to look at them, keeping his attention on the screen. He did not even flinch when Clint’s fist impacted with the table, growling in frustration and a pain he had not yet managed to move past.

“I saw-” Clint swallowed, voice thick. “They cut down Pepper. I watched her die. She was there, and then-” He paused again, not knowing how or if he should voice what had tormented his nightmares for almost a week. How less than half of her had been left. “Now she’s up and walking around, like nothing happened, with no memory of it? I don’t know what this is but it’s fucked up.”

“No one has been reported missing, no bodies have been recovered, no one _died_ that day.” Fury clicked off the projection and Loki’s focus broke, eyes snapping back to the table. “And without any of the video feeds working, we’ve got no way of knowing what actually happened.” Apart from what they had seen, the short-lived hell that almost everyone in that room had lived and the memories that lingered, there was nothing that they could use.

“How is that even possible?” Bruce asked, scrubbing his hand through his hair, looking tired and drawn. It wasn’t likely that he had been sleeping well either, and they all knew that the Other Guy was lingering not too far below the surface, too close for comfort.

“We were hoping that Loki might be able to answer that one.” Fury turned his attention on Loki, gaze lacking suspicion but Steve still did not like the intensity of that stare.

“I am afraid I do not know. I should like to consult with my brother once he returns, he may have more knowledge on this than I.” Loki met his gaze levelly, keeping his expression open and his posture unthreatening. He was no fool; the mood in the room was volatile at best, and he knew better than to pick a fight with people he still needed, people he was starting to care for.

“You think Thor knew about the attack?” Sam asked quietly from the end of the table. He had remained mostly silent throughout the meeting, the only one not present during the attack. He had, he said, been visiting a friend and his phone had been switched off at the time. Loki had no difficulty in believing him, though he could tell from the reaction of others in the room that a certain amount of bitterness and blame had, entirely unfairly, been apportioned to the man. In fact, aside from Steve Loki seemed the only one pleased at his absence; one less person to worry about, one less to have to protect, and though he had tried not to get attached he knew that should the Falcon fall he would mourn his loss greatly.

“Not likely, though I do not believe that his disappearance was entirely unrelated.” Looking up, Loki found that every set of eyes in the room was fixed on him. He leaned back in his seat, subconsciously striving for more distance between himself and the intensity, hands falling to his lap. “I believe the attack was timed so that he would not be here to counter it, and considering the circumstances of the battle it is likely not his fighting prowess that the attacker was avoiding. Rather, it is likely that he knows something that may be of some use.”

“Where _is_ Thor?” Fiddling with the tablet on the table in front of him, Tony appeared to have lost interest in the meeting, or had absorbed all he was willing to for the moment. It was clear, from how he had flinched, that Clint’s admission of Pepper’s death, however brief it may have been, had affected him more than most, and he was carefully portioning off what had happened to deal with later.

“No one knows. We haven’t been able to trace him, and Doctor Foster advised that he didn’t turn up for their meeting. On Asgard, maybe, but we’ve really got no way of knowing.” It was with some surprise that Loki felt a hand upon his own as the Widow spoke, squeezing gently in reassurance before it retreated again. He glanced to the side but she did not speak again, did not meet his eyes, and he pondered on that for a while.

“So what happens now?” Steve asked, breaking his silence. He had not witnessed the slaughter as his friends had, instead encountering only their bodies, most in too many pieces to recognise. It had been a living nightmare, moving from floor to floor, seeing people he had worked with, people he had wished a good morning only that day, unmoving and unseeing at his feet. It bothered him as much as the others, but he remained silent, and he had Loki to ease the nightmares.

“Now, we rebuild my tower again and try not to catch the attention of anyone else who might want to knock it down.” Tony groused, itching to get out of the meeting room and get on with planning yet another set of increasingly thorough defenses, hands twitching for a bottle and a glass so that he might forget, for a while, that they had almost lost everything.

“I will try to contact Thor, though I fear I will not be able. Asgard is blocked to me, I cannot reach it to ask if he is there without risking bringing the All-Father’s wrath down upon us all.” It had been bad enough when Odin had found out about Thor’s aiding his brother. Loki had not realised, until that point, that not only had he been banished under penalty of death should he ever return, but that all citizens of Asgard were forbidden from speaking with or aiding him, and were Thor any other than the crown prince he would likely have been locked up for his indiscretion, perhaps even banished alongside Loki. It concerned him, that Thor had not yet returned; he continued to disobey the All-Father, and Odin could only turn a blind eye for so long, and Loki did not wish his brother to suffer Odin’s wrath on his account. It was beyond unjust, but without Frigga at his side to temper his actions, and because he still grieved her loss heavily, the All-Father’s decisions had been questionable of late.

“I need to get back to work.” Bruce muttered, not looking at any of the others gathered as he stumbled from the room. Steve made to follow, to ensure his friend was alright even though he knew he most certainly wasn’t, but a hand on his knee stilled his motion. Instead, Tony stood, tablet in hand and strode from the room without a word. That seemed to be the signal for the meeting to disperse, some making their excuses in muttered tones while others simply leaving, the mood sombre.

“Something’s bothering you.” Steve murmured into Loki’s ear as the trickster god took hold of his hand, teleporting them both out and up to the strangely untouched floors that held the sleeping quarters of a number of the Avengers.

“What bothers me is that you are learning to read me so well.” Wrapping his arms around his lover, Loki let his forehead rest upon Steve’s shoulder, knowing it was of little use to lie to the man. “Yes, I am concerned. What I said before was no lie; Thor’s continued absence is not a coincidence and it does not sit well with me.”

“Do you think he’s in danger?” His tone quiet, Steve let his hand rub soothing circles upon Loki’s back, the other wrapped firmly around his waist, both needing the contact with one another a little more now than either was wont to admit.

“I know not, though that is a possibility. There is little I can do if he is, save hope that he has wits enough to get himself out of whatever mess he has undoubtedly gotten himself into.” Loki’s words were clipped, with an edge of irritation, but Steve could feel the worry hidden behind them. Despite their continued disagreements, even now, both brothers very clearly adored one another and either one would do anything for the other. Even, Steve thought, throw themselves into danger, which he was starting to suspect Thor may have done on Loki’s behalf. If that were the case, Steve certainly did not wish to be present for the ensuing argument once Thor returned.

“I’m guessing you don’t think Malekith was behind the, what were they, constructs?”

“You guess correctly.” Loki replied, pulling away and wondering whether they had any of the Italian coffee left that he preferred, the caffeine doing little for him with his enhanced metabolism but the aroma soothing to his nerves, starting towards the small kitchen area. “I do not wish to boast, for that is Thor’s predilection not mine, but I am more powerful a sorcerer than Malekith by far. His strength lies in battle, not in weaving the subtle intricacies of magic. To him, his seidr is a weapon, no different to a blade, something to be trained but not honed, a bonus if you like that he takes for granted to counter the weakness of his natural form. He is a powerful warrior, true, but the conjuring of a fireball or blades of wind does not make a mighty sorcerer. Ask him to replicate the intricacies of a butterfly’s wing, or the sensation of silk against the skin and he will fail. Amora is closer to myself, though still weaker. Her power is more subtle than his, at the least.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Steve had followed Loki into the kitchen, leaning against the side with his arms folded over his chest, watching Loki move around the small space and shifting whenever he found himself in the way.

“Constructs are difficult to create; they require a massive amount of magical energy, and then a continuous trickle to keep them mobile. I recall once managing to produce twenty two of the things, in a foolish attempt to woo a lady who had caught my eye. I could not command them and they lay useless at my feet as soon as I had created them! My magic was spent and I had to remain in the healing rooms for nigh on a week after that.” He chuckled, taking a clean mug from the cupboard and deciding on tea when all the coffee he could find was of the cheap variety. “The follies of youth. While I could as like create and control as many now, it would leave me drained and fairly useless for a time after.”

“So what you’re saying is, the pair of them _might_ be able to make maybe forty of the things between them, but that they’d be left vulnerable?” Forty, but certainly not sixty, which would mean that a third equally powerful magic user would have had to be present for the numbers to add up. Steve knew Amora had a sister, but other than that knew nothing of her; was she as powerful as Amora, or more so? Would she be as willing to work with Malekith as Amora had been, or even with Amora herself? Frigga had made no mention in his dream of a third party involved, which meant either she hadn’t known - which he doubted - or he was chasing a red herring.

“That is exactly it. Both are too proud, and too paranoid, to leave themselves so open to attack, so I find it highly unlikely that they would push themselves that far. The other issue with that would be the subject of control - half following instructions from one, half from the other. It would not work, there would be discord and the constructs moved too precisely.”

“Which means they had to have all come from one person.” Which, he thought, meant that the person in question would need to hold a ridiculous amount of power. “You think it’s the same person who’s been watching me?”

“Most likely, yes. Have you felt the eyes again, since that day?” Loki settled against the countertop opposite, steaming mug of tea within his hands, blowing softly on the too-hot liquid, the action habitual more than any sort of necessary response.

“A few times, not quite so intense though. More like we’re just being checked on, to make sure we’re not up to no good.” Steve chuckled, though the sound was dry and there was not much humour in it. He still did not like the thought of being spied on, and knowing that he was the only one who could feel it was disconcerting. He had to wonder if the others were being watched, or if it was just him, and if it were just him, what interest did the being have in his life and why?

“You phrase that as though-” Stopping mid-sentence, Loki stared at him, eyes widening. “No, but that cannot be true. It makes no sense.” Almost spilling the mug of tea as he placed it somewhat haphazardly down upon the side, he began to pace, running twitching fingers through his hair and tugging at the over-long strands. “ _She_ couldn’t, her reach is not so great for that, but _him_. _He_ could do this, if he so desired, he has power enough for that. _Why_ though? He has no interest in the affairs of mortals, save that Midgard be kept safe.”

“Who?” Stepping forwards, Steve took hold of Loki’s wrists, pulling them down from where the god was starting to yank a little too hard at his hair, drawing his lover too him and simply holding him there. “Who are you talking about?” Staring up into concerned blue eyes, Loki swallowed, considering his position for only a moment before he answered.

“Odin.”


	19. Almost Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a lot longer than usual to write, so apologies for the delay, but here we are. I'll try to get the next chapter up a bit quicker but NaNo starts tomorrow!

Loki could not sleep. Or, rather, he chose not to. They had retired to bed at a reasonably sensible hour; Steve had never really been one to stay up late, and Loki saw no reason to remain up without the Captain at his side. He never mentioned anything to anyone, but his motivations for following Steve were not as entirely selfish as one might think; the nightmares that Steve had suffered for far too long, of the ice, of death, of losing the one person he had - until Loki - cared for the most, had returned with a vengeance. They had been slipping away into obscurity, and often the Captain could sleep through the night without waking. Now, though, since the attack on the tower, he would wake screaming more often than not, sometimes two or three times a night. Even weeks later, it did not seem to be getting much better.

Still, with Loki at his side while he slept, Steve seemed more relaxed. Yes, the nightmares still came and yes, he would wake up sobbing, curled against his lover like a frightened child, but they were less intense. Less frequent. It was worth staring up at the ceiling thinking of nothing and everything for hours at a time, Loki thought, to ensure that Steve was kept safe from the nightmares that plagued him.

He had offered magic as the answer, a dreamless sleep where Steve would awaken refreshed, but when he had tried it had not worked. The flower up on Steve’s wrist had itched as the spell was cast, and Steve was convinced that it had grown a little as a result. They had not tried again.

The clock upon the wall ticked the time away, entirely too loudly, and Loki considered removing the batteries that kept the seconds hand ticking around, silencing it. It would irritate Steve though, and he would have no way of knowing the actual time were he to do that, and so he left it as it was. A glance at the hands, partly lit in the near-light of almost-dawn, indicated that it was almost four in the morning. Steve had only stirred once that night, for which Loki was thankful, and the soft touch of fingers combing through his hair had quickly lulled the Captain back to sleep. He was still breathing heavily beside him, one arm draped heavily over Loki’s chest, warm breath tickling at dark hair gathered at the base of a pale neck.

It wasn’t that Loki didn’t want _sleep_ per se, he needed it as much as any other, it was his own nightmares that he did not desire to live through night after night. The memories, some worse than others, were enough to leave him trembling and terrified, waking in the darkness of the bedroom in a cold sweat with no idea where he was or who he was with. After the third time, stumbling from their bed to empty the contents of his stomach into the toilet bowl, Loki resolved to sleep only when necessary.

That night, it was not necessary. Exhaustion seemed to help with the dreams, the more he needed sleep to continue functioning the less intense the dreams, his body and mind simply unable in that state to create the images that tormented him. Sometimes he dreamed of Thanos and the Other. Sometimes, it was of falling, and the soul-destroying emptiness of falling through eternal nothingness until madness gripped him. Mostly, though, he dreamed of Steve.

Steve, with half of his face missing, removed by the weapons Malekith’s army carried. Steve, ripped apart by a black hole grenade. Steve, bound and broken at Malekith’s feet, with Loki looking on, helpless. Every death he had witnessed, every SHIELD and Stark employee he had watched die or seen torn apart throughout the tower, his mind managed to replace with images of Steve.

It was too much, and Loki was not ready to deal with the thought of losing the man he loved. Wasn’t certain he would ever be ready. Glancing back at the wall, three minutes had passed, and Steve shifted to the side of him, murmuring something unintelligible in his sleep, face contorting for a moment before his features smoothed out again, replaced by a small smile. Loki released the breath he was holding, thankful that the Captain’s mind would allow him to sleep for at least a little longer. He would be up in barely two hours anyway, dressed within minutes and off on his early morning run before any sane person had even considered moving from the comfort and warmth of their bed.

He was beautiful, Loki thought, relaxed in sleep and without the frown that seemed to perpetually marr his features of late. Blonde hair mussed against the pillow, a smear of dark lashes against lightly tanned cheeks and with his lips slightly parted to allow slow puffs of breath to escape and tickle against Loki’s shoulder, he could not have looked more perfect. Loki reached out to gently brush his fingertips against the Captain’s chin, the temptation to kiss those soft lips passing quickly, knowing it would as like disturb or wake the man.

Steve would be safe for an hour or so, he thought, and even if the nightmares returned he would know. Slipping silently out from under the heavy and well-muscled arm, laying it down gently upon the bed, he tucked the covers around his lover’s still form. Loki pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s temple, before dressing with a wave of his hand and stealing quietly from the room. No sound followed him to indicate Steve had stirred and so, after pausing for a minute or two in case he was needed, Loki teleported away.

“I decide on a solitary stroll and somehow I find company.” He had known, somehow, that Stark would not be in his bed, strolling uninvited into the workshop that Tony favoured. Why he needed three workshops within the same tower was entirely beyond Loki, but it was not his tower, and thus was not his place to question.

“You found your way here, you can’t have been _that_ desperate to be alone.” Stark glanced up, a smirk playing on his lips, yet Loki could see how it wavered, could smell the drink on the man even from such a distance.

“No, perhaps I was not.” Loki acquiesced, taking a seat opposite the other man and watching curiously as he prodded at a golf ball sized metal contraption with a tiny screwdriver, cursing to himself.

“So what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” His voice was slightly slurred, enough that Loki knew he probably should not be anywhere near the electronics that surrounded him, yet not quite enough that he was inclined to try to stop the man. He was not at the point of breaking things, and that was good enough for the moment. “That wasn’t a pickup line by the way. Don’t tell Steve, he’d kill me.” Tony’s face contorted, and it was enough to drag a small laugh from the god.

“Do not worry Stark, I have no intentions of repeating your rather terrible attempt at flirting to the dear Captain, though you do not give him enough credit. He would not kill you, simply give you that _look_.”

“The ‘I’m terribly disappointed in you’ look.” Tony agreed with a nod. “Yeah, that’s worse. I’ll take the death, thanks.” He paused for a moment, giving Loki a critical once over. “So what’d you do, to get that look?”

“I may possibly have replaced Agent Barton’s shower creme with a potent hair removal product.” Loki admitted with a sly grin, still quite proud of that one, particularly when Barton had stormed up to him the next day, entirely furious but unable to articulate as to why for fear of the riotous laughter that Tony was presently spewing were it to get out. “Steve was not impressed.”

“Steve needs a sense of humour transplant sometimes, that shit is _gold_.” Tony howled, leaning against the workbench, the half-melted metal contraption he had been trying to disassemble forgotten beside him. “What’d Clint do?”

“I believe his exact words were ‘I know it was you’, and I left him trying not to explain the situation to Agent Romanoff and Sam Wilson. His timing really was impeccable, I could not have planned it better myself.”

“I’d have paid to see that.” Downing the scotch in his glass, Tony poured himself a new one, the grin plastered across his face being the first true smile Loki had seen on anyone within that building since the attack, and even that fuelled by alcohol. “How’d he get out of that one?”

“He didn’t.” The smirk on Loki’s face told Tony all that he needed to know, setting the billionaire off again with another fit of giggles. “You know if it though, what did you do to receive the look?”

“What _didn’t_ I do?” Tony replied with a snort, giving up on actually working and instead poking tiny, loose screws with the end of the miniature screwdriver, watching as they rolled in circles on the worktop. “I get that look practically daily my friend, there’s very little I do that your boyfriend actually agrees with. And trust me, you never get used to it. Still as potent now as when he used it on me the first day we met.”

“Careful Stark, you’re starting to sound nostalgic.” Loki frowned, trying to decipher the meaning behind the words and coming up short. He did not know enough about the shared history of Stark and his Captain, but they were undeniably close.

“What’s the matter, jealous?” 

“Of the past? That would be entirely foolish. Of the present? Now that, perhaps, might pose a problem depending on your present stance, though I do doubt your intentions are anything but honourable where the Captain is concerned. So in answer to your question no, I am not.” Or, he thought, perhaps only a little. Not enough to warrant an argument with someone he was otherwise able to get on with reasonably well, and certainly not when anything he mentioned to Stark was liable to get back to Steve.

“Really? I pegged you as the jealous type.” Tony hummed, pouring yet another drink and Loki was seriously considering taking the bottle from him and hiding it somewhere the billionaire would not be able to find it. “Not that you need to be. Cap’s always been this unreachable ideal, he’s stupidly perfect, and that makes him-” He waved the hand holding his glass somewhat vaguely. “Untouchable. Unattainable. And yet in you come, the one person we’re all supposed to hate, and manage to pull the guy.”

“Do _you_ hate me, Stark?”

“No.” He sighed, looking somewhat resigned. “I should, but I don’t. Don’t think I did before, either. I figure, you did what you did for a reason, I just don’t _get_ that reason, not sure I ever will and I don’t really want to. You’re clearly not a bad guy, else Steve wouldn’t put up with you, and damnit you’ve been _good_ for him. So far, anyway. And,” Tony pointed at the god, fixing an intense stare on Loki’s bemused face. “You saved my life. I don’t forget shit like that, I _owe_ you and so do most of the people in this building.”

“I would not have allowed you to die.” Not as others had, Loki thought, a pang of regret working its way into his chest. He had not been able to save everyone, and he hated himself for that, despite knowing that - somehow - the dead were up and walking again. His mistakes had not been permanent, and yet they so easily might have been. “You have become dear to me. I do not intend to lose you, or anyone, just yet.”

“Is that the Loki way of saying ‘will you be my friend’?” Tony’s mouth twisted into what Loki assumed should have been a sneer, though there was no malice behind it, only drunken humour that he wasn’t certain he wanted to understand.

“No, such a question would be entirely pointless. We are already ‘friends’ Stark, that you don’t realise it speaks volumes. Or, perhaps it merely indicates that you have imbued entirely too much drink and need to retire to your bed.” Loki replied, and he hadn’t meant it to come out as sharply as it had, barely recognising the slight twist of discomfort at knowing his own feelings for those he shared living space with were entirely one-sided.

“Not happenin’ rock of ages, me and Johnnie Walker here still have some unfinished business.” He tapped at the bottle, almost three quarters empty, and Loki wondered just how much had been in there when he had started drinking. Or, perhaps, if he had actually stopped drinking since the attack. He wasn’t certain he wanted to find out.

“Can you not sleep?” Loki asked quietly, his concern growing when Stark wobbled in his seat, looking for a moment as though he might fall.

“I could ask you the same question.” Tony grinned, nudging a glass his way, pouring something clear and amber-coloured into the patterned tumbler. Judging from the slightly bleary-eyed look and dark circles, the man had been awake for roughly the same amount of time as Loki had, though mortals were not quite so robust and as a result he was not handling his prolonged period of consciousness quite as well as Loki.

“Have you even tried to sleep?” Picking up the glass, Loki sniffed at it, finding the smell unpleasant but sipping on the liquid anyway. It burned on the way down, and while it was not quite as strong as some of the drinks favoured on Asgard, neither was it as pleasant.

“Nope.” The chirpiness in Tony’s voice was entirely manufactured, exacerbated by the alcohol and the exhaustion, and Loki wondered distantly when the man had last eaten. “Have you?”

“No.” Loki replied, truthfully. He took another sip, wondering distantly why mortals favoured such foul-tasting and weak liquor.

“Here’s to the bad dreams club.” Tony raised his glass but did not drink, letting Loki tug it gently from his fingers, setting both down out of his reach. “I keep thinking, what happens if they come back? What happens next time, if you’re not here, or if you’re not fast enough.”

“I will always be fast enough, Stark.” Loki replied, fixing the man with a firm stare, his tone not brooking any argument. 

“Yeah but I wasn’t.” The billionaire’s face crumpled, and as fat tears began to roll down his face, Loki was not certain what to do. If this had been Steve, he would have gathered the man to his chest and held him, simply existing for him until Steve was ready to talk. Tony wasn’t Steve, though, and Loki had no basis for comparison. He placed an awkward hand upon the man’s shoulder as he might have done for Thor, squeezing slightly, and it must have been the right thing to do because the next thing he knew Stark was throwing his arms around Loki and sobbing into his shoulder. “I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t prepared. My defences failed, all of them, there was _nothing_ I could have done. Pepper died because I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t smart enough.”

“She is alive, Tony. She still breathes.” Their position was awkward, with Tony half leaning off his seat, very drunk and sobbing loudly, hanging off Loki’s neck. Still, Loki did not move away, did not try to disentangle the man, instead moving one hand to rub soothing circles over Tony’s back as Steve often liked.

“But what if we’re not this lucky next time? What if they get her, or Steve, or Bruce, or you? What if I lose everything I care about because I’m just _not good enough?_ ” The pitch of his cries increased, and Loki was pleased at their distance from any of the living quarters, lest they attract attention from the others. He certainly would not wish another to witness such a display were he the one in distress, and Loki assumed Stark would feel much the same about it.

“You no longer need to be alone in this, you have me where you did not before, we will be better prepared should there be a next time. I will help, we will keep them safe. We will keep Steve safe.” Because Loki wasn’t entirely certain what he would do if Steve was not kept safe, protected. He knew he could not hide the Captain away from the world, Steve would never permit it. Their link meant he felt everything regarding the man all the more keenly; he knew just from looking what Steve was feeling, could tell from the feeling in his chest that Steve was sleeping soundly at that point in time, would know when he would start to awaken. For that link to break, to shatter; Loki wasn’t certain he would survive it.

“Yes...Steve and Pepper and Bruce, everyone. We have to keep everyone safe.” Tony was nodding, each motion bumping his forehead against Loki’s shoulder blade, and it might have been amusing if not for the sombre tone of his voice or the slight shake of his shoulders.

“You will have to sleep Stark, else you will be of little use in fortifying our defences. We can start once you have rested.”

“No, I _can’t_.” He swallowed thickly, pulling back from the god though still holding on to his shoulders. “The dreams-”

“I can stop the dreams.” Loki interjected smoothly, and Tony looked as though he might consider it. “You will sleep soundly, undisturbed, that I will promise you.”

“You can do that?” Tony asked curiously, and with more than a little hope in both voice and expression.

“I can do a great many things, this is but one of them.” Cocking his head, Loki considered their position for a moment. Stark was beyond simply drunk, and the likelihood of his remembering any of this conversation the following day was fairly slim. “I have felt nothing but guilt since we were attacked. None of this would have happened if not for me. Had Amora finished what she planned for me that day, had you not found me, your lives would have continued as normal, entirely unhindered by my presence.”

“You would be dead.” Tony replied bluntly, and Loki was aware of a damp patch against his shoulder where the man’s hand moved to rest, pressing the wet fabric against his skin.

“And you would be sound asleep in your bed. I was not a friend then, you would not have mourned my loss.”

“Yeah, we would’ve.” Tony replied, entirely sure of himself. “Maybe not as much as now, but we would’ve.” Loki did not bother responding, feeling the tug within his chest to let him know Steve was awake and wondering where he had gone, almost like a homing beacon. Placing his palm against the back of Tony’s head, coaxing him into leaning back against his shoulder, he pulled forth the required spell, feeling the man grow limp in his arms as the dreamless sleep overtook him.

“JARVIS, can you tell me if anyone else in the tower is presently awake?” Despite knowing that there was no need to do so, Loki could not help but glance up at the ceiling as he spoke, the same habit Steve had picked up when addressing the machine.

“Captain Rogers has just awoken, Agent Romanoff and Doctor Banner are both awake and have been for some time.” JARVIS responded, matter of factly. “Would you like me to deliver a message to any of them for you?”

“Where is Doctor Banner at the moment?” Shifting the unconscious billionaire back from his chest, Loki shifted to slide one arm beneath his knees while the other wrapped around his shoulders, lifting him effortlessly and cradling the man to his chest.

“In his rooms, partaking in breakfast I believe.”

“Let him know we’re on our way up.” Loki replied, waiting a moment or so to ensure the message was delivered so that he might not startle the good doctor with his sudden arrival. By the time he teleported them up to Bruce’s living quarters, Tony had started snoring quietly in his arms.

“He’s actually sleeping?” Bruce looked surprised at that, though showed no shock at their sudden arrival, standing from his seat and leading Loki through to the bedroom. “Put him on the bed, I won’t be using it for a while.”

“You have been suffering from dreams as well?” Doing as he was told, Loki gently lowered Tony down onto the bed, stepping back as Bruce rolled him onto his side and pulled a blanket over the sleeping billionaire.

“You don’t sound all that surprised.” The scent of alcohol hung heavy in the air, something they could do little about, though Bruce could not help turning his nose up at the stench of it as he pulled back from his sleeping friend, quickly vacating the room and assuming Loki would follow. “Tony must have been hitting the bottle harder than usual, to have passed out so soon.”

“He certainly helped, though I will admit it was not entirely the doing of his drink.” Loki admitted, earning a curious glance from the doctor, any suspicion he might have perhaps expected entirely absent. “I offered him a dreamless sleep, and he accepted. He will sleep for as long as his body requires, without waking. It may last for a while, so I thought it best to have you watch over him, considering his present state.”

“Probably for the best, I need to try to get some fluids in him.” Bruce sighed, poking at his now-cold porridge looking somewhat disgruntled. “He won’t dream at all, then?”

“No dreams, no nightmares, he will awaken with no more bad memories than he went to sleep with.” Loki assured, before bidding Banner a swift goodbye and removing himself from the doctor’s presence, seeking out Steve in the hope that his lover might not be too perturbed at his absence.

“Is everything alright?” Steve had risen and dressed, perched on the edge of their now-made bed as he tied the laces of his running shoes, glancing up as Loki made an appearance. Concern flickered across his face for only a moment, and he reached out for his lover, drawing him close.

“Stark had imbued an unnecessary about of drink and had to be put to bed.” Loki sat himself down beside the Captain, leaning against his slightly shorter lover as Steve’s arm looped around his waist. “Do not fret, he is fine. The good doctor is watching over him.”

“I was just about to go for a run, you can come with me if you want?” He always asked, and Loki always declined, yet it felt like the right thing to do for him to keep asking, because somehow Steve knew that it was appreciated. Loki may not wish to join him, but he appreciated being thought of, and that was something Steve could both understand and cater for.

“I shall have to pass this time, my love, I am tired and may try to catch a few more hours sleep.” Smiling softly, Loki carefully schooled his features into a tired yet relaxed expression, not wishing for Steve to see the swirling cauldron of emotions he had bottled within himself.

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Steve placed a chaste kiss upon Loki’s lips, giving his waist a small squeeze before disentangling his arm and heading for the door. Loki was left alone in the room, clock ticking loudly upon the wall until he willed it to stop, pushing down the warring concern he felt lest Steve feel it also through their connection. Steve was not as adept at using it as Loki was, but anything too intense would still force its way through to the other man. Curling up on top of the covers, he did not bother to strip out of his clothes, letting his eyes slide shut and hoping for a few hours of peaceful sleep while Steve was busy elsewhere.

That Loki was suffering was both inevitable and irrelevant; he deserved it, the pain and the nightmares. He knew it to be true, his own choices in life having led him down his present path, and yet Steve also suffered. The Captain had done nothing to warrant the distress he felt near-nightly, and Loki hated himself for not being able to either prevent it or aid in Steve’s recovery from the torment. Now that Loki had seen how far the pain stretched, though, through Banner and Stark and likely everyone else present on that day. Not just the Avengers, but the cleaning staff, the kitchen workers, the mailman, everyone who had witnessed that hell was suffering, and it was entirely Loki’s fault.

When he finally dropped off to sleep, it wasn’t only Steve’s face he saw in his nightmares, and when Loki awoke screaming he was entirely alone.


	20. Brothers

When Thor returned, it was to precious little fanfare, none of his usual bluster present. He had been missing for almost a month, and it did not look as though he had particularly slept in that time, speaking to no one as he pushed past those who tried few to greet him. His expression grim, most avoided him altogether as he scoured the tower, searching silently. He found Loki seated at the breakfast bar in the penthouse, amusement flitting over his features at some joke Sam had just told that Thor did not care to hear.

“Thor!” Loki turned at Tony’s exclamation from the couch, opening his mouth to either greet or admonish his brother, not having chance to do either as he was dragged bodily from his seat and into a bone-breaking hug. Thor buried his face in his brother’s shoulder, holding him close as he released a jagged, wet-sounding breath that he might have held since his departure some weeks hence.

“What has happened?” His voice soft, a kindness present that was usually reserved solely for Steve, Loki pulled back enough to be able to look upon his brother’s face, seeing only pain there. Thor was not able to meet his eyes, instead merely shaking his head and pulling Loki close once more, unwilling or unable to let go just yet. Loki’s own arms raised to embrace the thunder god, confusion and concern warring within his mind; it would have taken something of truly terrible proportions for the Asgardian to react as he was, and there was very little Loki could think of that would call for such a reaction.

“Thor?” Loki’s eyes raised to meet Steve’s as the Captain stepped up beside them, matching concern playing out between both of them. Steve placed a firm hand upon Thor’s arm, surprised when the muscle beneath his fingers twitched, tensed and pulled back, releasing Loki to wrap around his shoulders so that the Captain was also dragged into the firm embrace. “Come on big guy, you’re scaring me now.” Speaking lightly, Steve held on to the thunder god, afraid that if he did not Thor might break entirely. None in that room had ever seen Thor so distraught, not even Loki, and it was clear in the near-panic Steve saw in his lover’s eyes that it did not sit well with him.

“Please, brother, you must tell us what has transpired.” Slender fingers reached up to tangle in Thor’s hair, smoothing through the strands as Loki had done when they were children, the familiarity of the touch not going unnoticed. It unearthed memories of pre-dawn comfort after a nightmare, and the gentle reassurance of a brother after a friend fallen in battle. It was the consolation after a particularly sharp admonishment from Mother and the gentle easing of hurt feelings from one of their own arguments. It helped, but it also hurt, and Thor could not suppress the sob that worked its way free.

“I cannot.” Thor’s voice was muffled, pressed against Loki’s shoulder. “I do not know how; it makes so little sense that I can scarce believe it myself. And yet, I have seen it, I have heard the words spoken and I know them to be true.”

“What words are these?” Of all people, Loki knew the power of words. He knew that the truth could hurt, could break, and certain truths were so powerful that they were never to be spoken of. He himself had dealt in these, had caused pain and upset not unlike that which he could see in Thor’s eyes, and yet something told him that this was not one of those things. This was something closer, something infinitely more personal.

“Your date of death has been written, Loki. You are-” He swallowed thickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “You are as good as mortal now, and I cannot...there is nothing that can be done. And there are other things of which we must speak, but-” Loki sucked in a breath, eyes widening in surprise as the hand he held within Thor’s hair tightened upon the long, golden strands.

“Where did you hear this?” There was no accusation there, but his tone did carry a slight mistrust; not of Thor himself, but of the information that had been so freely handed out to the first prince, without any thought as to sharing it with the second.

“I have spoken with Father, and I have spoken with Heimdall. Your life force has been linked with that of Steven, your cord tangled around his own. I have visited the Norns, to see what might be done, and even they cannot undo what has been done.” Loki hissed at that, pulling back to stare at his brother, partly in shock and partly in anger.

“You spoke with the Norns directly?” He growled, fury bubbling just below the surface that Thor would do something so rash. “You fool! Why would you do something so reckless? They could have taken your life as payment, did you not know this? Are you so much a fool that you are unaware of how _dangerous_ it is to seek answers from them, much less to request a boon?”

“I am, and was, aware of the risks. But you are my brother, and I cannot see you perish so soon. _Too_ soon. Regardless of what might have transpired, I care for you, and would gladly give my life if it means I might save yours.” Thor snapped back, though there was no malice in his words, only adoration and compassion. He looked as though he might cry, his grief still too near the surface to handle an argument with the brother he could lose at any point.

“Mine is not a life worth saving, and even if it _were_ I am not in immediate danger. Am I not stood here, speaking with you? Do I not live on?” His anger dying as swiftly as it arrived, Loki softened both his tone and his gaze, not wishing to trade cross words if he did not need to.

“But your life can only continue for as long as Steve’s does. Were he to die, you too would perish.” Gripping his brother’s shoulder as though it might keep him there, protect him from the imminent end, Thor’s expression twisted into an unhappy frown, every emotion clearly visible upon his features.

“And if Loki dies, I die too?” Steve finally interjected, looking partly thoughtful, though with unmissable concern. Both Loki and Thor shifted their attention to him, twin grips tightening, keeping him close.

“No, t’is a one-way link. You will continue to live on, carrying a part of my brother within you.” Thor replied, sadness not quite leaving his tone, voice low and thick.

“Wait, which part?” Steve asked, nose crinkling in confusion as his eyes flitted from Loki to Thor and back again. Loki might have found it cute, if not for the crushing weight of what he had just been told, barely fighting back his own emotions. “What does that even mean? Not that he’s going to die any time soon or anything, but I don’t understand most of this.”

“I do not know, my friend. I have asked, and none have been able to tell me, just that you already carry a part of his life force within you, and that following his death that part will increase.”

“So I will continue to live on within Steve, even after my death?” It actually sounded as though Loki was offering the thought some serious consideration, and Steve looked momentarily horrified, before slender fingers wrapped around his own and squeezed. “I should prefer to remain living of course, but I can think of worse fates than continuing to exist within the man that I love.”

“I do not wish to see either of you die, and you are my brother. I cannot lose you again, not after all that has happened.” Turning back to Loki, Thor’s look was one of a false determination, unable yet to move from the swirl of emotions that had consumed him for the past month.

“Right, well that’s a nice easy one to fix then.” Tony interrupted from across the room, the clank of glass on glass indicating he had found the whisky stashed under the bar. “Since we can’t separate them, we just need to find a way to keep Steve alive permanently, right?”

“You wish to make him immortal? To live as one of the Aesir?” Thor asked, surprised, and near enough kicked himself for not having come to that conclusion himself.

“Well, why not?” The billionaire shrugged. “How hard can it be?”


End file.
